


Stout Oloroso

by DefinitelyNotFrankincense



Category: Phantasy Star Online 2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 21,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1802782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyNotFrankincense/pseuds/DefinitelyNotFrankincense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of not-quite-drabbles, not-quite-one-shots centered around Chroto and Sherri, written in no particular order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Index

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this is here. Yes, perhaps I could just post each and every one of these separately as their own drabble/one-shot/whatever. But I don't think they really fit like that. I'd rather keep them all here together. And even though it says "in no particular order," these things do take place in an order. I just don't write or post them in order. So, if you want to read them chronologically, please use this. I'll update it each time I post a new chapter.

* * *

02\. Windy Demon  
08\. Survey  
11\. Maiden by the Hand  
03\. Morning After  
04\. Tundra's Exhausting  
05\. General Elections  
12\. Underestimated  
06\. School Union  
10\. Vitiation  
14\. Team Room - Coast  
09\. Seven Dwarfs  
17\. Videogames  
07\. Hands Ticking Away  
13\. Despair  
15\. Working Class  
16\. Unneeded

* * *

Regarding his name:

It's spelled "Chroto" in latin letters in the Japanese credits, and all localizations that use the latin alphabet spell it "Chroto" as well.  
It's spelled 「クロト」 (KUROTO) in Japanese.  
You could connect that to the enzyme or asteroid "klotho," and that probably was the intention of the writer who named him, since many characters share names that link back to asteroids and other things. BUT, they consciously spelled it "Chroto," so it can't be a mistake.

So there will be no "correcting" his name to that which the patch uses. I don't agree with it. I'm also trying to stick to names and terms that the official localizations use, so there won't be any "correcting" of other names/terms, either, unless the official localizations change.


	2. Windy Demon

They ran into each-other only briefly a few times before, and never on the field. She couldn't really remember how they'd ended up conversing; she just knew that for some reason, she was at ease speaking with the third pillar. Maybe his careful choosing of words had a subconscious effect? She wouldn't be surprised.

On the other hand, there was a fluttery feeling in her stomach that she really didn't want to think too much on. It was absolutely stupid, after all. Even she knew that much. It was hard to help, though; Casra seemed such a perfect gentleman, radiating a kindness and softness from every inch of him. Seriously, that handsome face and voice, his body language, even the sway of the tassles on his hat were all so damn gentle. She couldn't imagine him hurting a fly, let alone being of such a high rank within the ARKS.

It felt kind of contagious; she found herself smiling a lot as she spoke with him.

"You've really gained quite the reputation thus far. You certainly put in an amount of effort that everyone should aspire to." The greenet smiles, "I just hope you aren't wearing yourself out too much."

"Th-thank you..." Sherri blushes, running a hand through her hair. "But it's not like I'm good or anything... I only try hard..."

"All the more reason. If only those with natural talent would put in this kind of effort..." He seems to be thinking of someone in particular for a moment. "I hope you know I mean no offense by that." He hides a good-natured smile behind his hand, "Of course, I don't mean to praise you too much, either. It's merely an observation."

"Yes... of course, sir..." She smiles back.

Then she jumps as a hand is laid on her shoulder from behind.

"My, I knew you were infamous, but to catch even the higher ups' attention..."

She whirls around and her face flushes again at the familiar voice, "Sir!"

"Oi, what'd I say about that..." He ruffles her hair a bit before subtly moving more to her side.

"Right... Chroto." she sighs as she smooths her hair back down. "What are you doing here?"

"You were so late that it's my lunch break by now." Seeing her horrified expression, he gives a chuckle. "There should still be an opening near the time my break's over, don't worry."

She quickly bows, "Thank you so much... I'm so sorry, I didn't realize that much time had passed... And I don't really have an excuse." Standing back to her full height, she turns back toward the now curious techer. "I was talking with Casra..."

Said greenet smiles and waves it off. "I didn't mean to take up so much of your time with idle talk. I apologize."

"No, no, it's entirely my fault. I'd even been preparing for my course... How embarrassing, after what we were talking about..." Glancing back over at Chroto, she tries not to pause as she notes the slight tilt of his head. "Um... Sorry, Casra. This is my partner, Chroto."

Before the third pillar could respond, the brunet clapped a hand onto Sherri's shoulder again. "I'm sure he doesn't care to meet lil' ol' me." He squeezes slightly with his thumb.

Sherri sends an apologetic smile toward the greenet. "Sorry to run, but I should probably finish my preparations."

"Of course," he responds, understanding smile in place. "Don't let me keep you."

She turns back to her partner, "Though, if there's enough time, I'd like to catch lunch, too..." At his nod, she gives a final bow to her company. "Take it easy, Casra."

He returns the gesture, "Take care of yourself, Sherri."

As the two retreat, it doesn't go unnoticed that Chroto stays half a pace behind and more to the center.

When out of sight and ear shot, he matches her pace and closes more of the distance, keeping his voice low. "I'd steer clear of that guy if I were you."

Sherri doesn't break the pace or turn her head. She may not understand exactly what's going on, but she knows he's serious. He had his eye on the third pillar the whole time behind those goggles. "What, out of my league?"

"I'm not joking, Sherri." She keeps silent. "The circumstances surrounding that guy are strange and subtle. Don't get involved."

She lets it sit for a while, still not seeing anything terribly off about the man. But her partner's grin is nowhere to be seen and she knows it's something bigger than she could ever hope to figure out or handle. So, she nods and takes comfort in the hand that holds hers protectively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started: 11/27/2013 1:? AM  
> Finished: 11/27/2013 6:17 PM
> 
> Even the JP wiki thinks this guy's suspicious. What with the whole Zeno thing, I'm surprised there's not more theories running around. Also yes green, even though his hair is clearly blond. His hair was originally green, and people keep drawing him with green hair...
> 
> Well, whether anything comes of that or not, Chroto's super suspicious anyway, so he'd probably want to stay as far away from the six pillars or whatever as possible. I kind of want to get that across the most: he's not being possessive; just looking out for someone he's become kind of close to. Though, I realize he was anything but subtle about separating them. I'd like to say it's because he wasn't expecting it and acted on impulse, but that sounds too sappy and it wasn't my intention. I don't have a real excuse. I'm just bad at writing.
> 
> Edit: THANK YOU, YOU CAN SWITCH OUT OF WORK MODE NOW MS. NOAH. ;_; i'mkiddingthankyou
> 
> Edit2: Fixed the hair colors. For those curious, "ette" is for female and "et" is for male. It's really damn silly we have separate spellings for them, and I hate it, but I might as well be correct :v


	3. Morning After

It was one of the most peaceful moments either of them could remember; wrapped in both the warmth of each-other and the warmth of the room that they had caused; exhausted breaths fragile across each-other's skin; bodies still moving as one with each rise and fall; his heart beating under her ear and her heart beating against his side.

It felt like it could have been hours or seconds that they laid there. Lazy eyes knew they'd tumbled into the room so late at night that it was already early morning; the artificial daylight should be transitioning in any moment. Sherri had already decided neither of them were going to answer that silent call, though.

With neither being fully asleep, the familiar and dangerous shift in the atmosphere was impossible to miss. Without realizing it, both had begun to tense until the anticipated sound rang out:

"Red alert. Multiple D-arker signatures are..."

The tension broke as they both sighed.

"I don't think we're allowed to finish a moment..." Sherri muttered both their thoughts, trying to bury herself deeper into the sheets and warm chest beneath her head.

"Thinking about retiring..." he answered back, pulling her closer and hiding his face in her hair.

"You ain't gray enough yet, gramps.."

With another sigh, they both rolled away to gather their scattered pieces of armor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written: 10/20/2013 1:31pm


	4. Tundra's Exhausting

He hates missions in the tundra the most.

They were both suitably bundled up in warmer armors that combined the technology of the ARKS and the hides of the native creatures, but there was only so much that either could do without being immobilizing.

Even through the increasing wind, it was hard not to hear him shivering and his teeth chattering away. Lazy as he was, he was all too glad to hand off analyzing to Sherri for the chance to get his blood flowing. Damn if it didn't feel like he was just breathing in more ice, though.

"Never again. Tundra.  _Never again._ " Chroto shivers, crossing his arms tightly after re-holstering his guns.

"I'll make a note of that..." Sherri drawls, sifting through a bit of the data they'd collected. "But we're already here. We can't exactly back out."

He keeps fidgeting where he stands, seeming to be trying to stare a hole through her head.

"Staring isn't going to make me go any faster. If I don't sort it out properly now, I might as well delete it all. I can hardly make sense of this crap in the first place."

"I thought you aced that portion?" He sneezes and tries looking through the pockets on his coat for a handkerchief but gives up after a few failed attempts to properly grasp the zipper.  _'Damn bulky gloves…'_

"Bless you. Doesn't mean it stuck. I hadn't run any cooperative missions since I was fresh out of the academy until I teamed up with you. It all fell out of my head." She suddenly shuts the device down. "Doesn't help that whatever custom OS they're using is the most irritating piece of junk to try and navigate. I've lost count of how many times it's crashed, too..."

"I'd love to re-educate you, but I'm just about frozen to the spot here."

"Right, right... Let's hurry and get the big baby home so he can get his hot cocoa..." she teases, walking up to meet him at the crossroad he'd stopped at. She absently notes that the wind is picking up.

"I swear, whenever you enter the tundra, you turn just as frigid..."

"I'm just tired of hearing you whine."  _'...Actually, it's damn adorable. How can I resist teasing?'_

"Well, it's cold!"

"Maybe if you'd wear a proper hood."

"It won't keep the sun out of my eyes."

"That's what your goggles are for."

"They don't do it alone."

"Then too freaking bad." Sighing, she detaches her hood and snatches the hat from his head.

The sudden rush of cold to the top of his head makes him gasp. " _Are you trying to kill_ —" The hood is pulled unceremoniously over his eyes as she straps it to his coat.

She walks back to the front of them as he adjusts it, his hat already sitting comfortably on her head. She stands in front of him, grinning. Baring one hand, she reaches up and pats his scowling face. "Suck it up, babe."

She's caught off guard as he holds her hand from retreating and his face relaxes again. " _Warm..._ " He leans into it then scowls again. "How are you this warm?! That isn't fair!"

Her face flushes as she indulges him, rubbing circles with her thumb. "I-I don't know? Maybe my photons are more attuned for extreme weather. Maybe you're just super sensitive."

A particularly strong gust of wind blows against both of them and Sherri has to hold on to the brim of his hat to keep it from flying away. With her 'occupied' hand, she feels a violent shiver run through him. "They never said we had a time limit. Shelter.  _Now._ "

A few minutes of jogging had them resting in the corner of one of the deeper caves.

Though free from the wind, Chroto still subtly chatters away despite his best attempts.

Sherri sighs in exasperation, fiddling with the clasps on her overlarge coat. "Just keep your teeth from actually chattering. Aside from that, let your body do what it wants. Bad for your teeth, keeps blood flowing."

He pauses. "My body wants to be warm." He starts scooting closer.

"That can be arranged." She's undone the clasps and is shrugging it off before he can get too close.

"While that certainly heats me up any other time, I think I'd rather keep my clothes on for now."

She sits up and swings a leg over his lap, straddling him. "Too bad, this one's coming off."

Chroto keeps his arms crossed while she tries to pry them apart to get at the clasps on his coat. "I know it sounds romantic, but trust me; under these circumstances, it's  _not_  a good way to keep warm."

Sherri sits back, huffing. "I'm not trying to initiate sex here. I'm trying to warm you up, so just trust me. And take off your gloves."

He watches her for a few moments before uncrossing his arms and doing as she asked along with undoing the clasps himself with shivering fingers. At her insistence, he slides his arms out of the sleeves, leaving it around his shoulders.

She drapes her coat over the both of them and presses into him as close as she can, wrapping her arms up around his back and leaning her neck against his. "Better?"

He can instantly feel her warmth seep into him even before he returns the embrace. He nods with a final shudder.

"We'll wait the blizzard out, bullshit the rest of the mission and head back. And get you your hot cocoa."

A hand brushes lower and he grins. "And?"

She chuckles and nods, "And."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written: 12/13/2013 (finished at 1:54am the following day)
> 
> I don't even know. What is transitioning? How does transitioning work? I'm sorry.
> 
> Chroto is especially weak to more extreme climates, based on the two cutscenes he has in tundra and desert. (Though, desert seems to come first.) Yes, this will be a thing that Sherri often takes advantage of since she is oh so conveniently good at regulating her own body temperature. Since she probably made note of it early on, she's probably gotten most of her coats and jackets in larger sizes to be able to lend them to him. lol
> 
> I don't know what outfits they'd be wearing, actually. I can't really imagine either of them in either of the tundra-inspired outfits. I guess some variation of the 2013 winter outfits? (...The red one does look good on him.) I think the hood accessory should be able to attach to most relevant attire, too.
> 
> Also I think I got sharing body heat wrong? I think you are supposed to be naked. But without a definitely dry surface to lay on, I don't think that sounds like a good idea? Just stripping off the outer layer should be fine, maybe? Like, they have long johns and such under that. I don't know these things, I've never lived where it snows.


	5. General Elections

They stand looking up at the monitor from the back of the crowd. All eyes are on him, yet not. He doesn't look anything like the shining '1st place' portrait at the moment, and he thinks it's amusing how taking things  _off_  disguised him so well. His hat, goggles and armor had all been left back in Sherri's room, having called in sick to avoid the flood of people. In addition, he'd taken the braids out for the trim he was long due for, leaving his hair waving every which way— especially into his face, much to his annoyance.

"So, you won." she states flatly.

"Seems so." he replies just as flatly.

He's not exactly happy about it. Attention was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

"How'd I even get signed up for this?"

"What's it even  _mean?_  'General Elections'?"

"They're going to expect something out of me now. Probably money."

"You have to think of something at least, right?"

"Mhm."

"Whatcha gonna do?"

He sighs. "Hell if I know. The costs had better be covered by whoever's responsible for this, though."

She looks over to find him sulking into his folded arms. She gives him a firm pat on the shoulder; he sighs again and makes generally annoyed sounds.

She pauses.

"What was with that girl cleaning your windows earlier?"

"Oh. She came to my room and offered herself as a prize for winning. I asked if she did windows and she seemed absolutely thrilled to 'do anything against a window,' so I put her to work."

She recalls the stiff irritation with which the windows were being cleaned. "Somehow, I don't think that's what she had in mind."

"Well that's her problem."

She finds that annoyed pout to be oddly assuring, though she smiles the thought away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date written: February 26th 2014
> 
> I wasn't expecting Chroto to win, especially not by so much... Also with his attitude toward standing out, you'd think his quotes would be a little more reluctant. (For those curious, his candidate quote translated to "If you vote for me, maybe you'd get something good out of it?" and his victory quote translated to "Whoa, this is pretty unexpected. Seems I got everyone to vote for me. Such a happy ending, huh~ There'll be something good coming your way, 'kay~?") (Yes I translate his extended vowels as tildes 'cause Nobuhiko Okamoto has that thing with his voice and ugh) (Also if curious, Gettfgjkhfjhk's first words in his losing quote is bitching at Melfonseana lol)  
> The Japanese roleplayers seem to be more on board with the reluctant reaction, for the record.
> 
> I'm a little confused why Theodor wasn't even a candidate, though. Maybe a 1 Nobu limit. Haha. (But there's 2 Hiro's... *kicks poll*)
> 
> ... The end bit came from me not questioning the translations available and mixing up the meanings of "General" since I didn't bother reading the kanji. The kanji used is like "in general," while I thought it was for the rank of "General," so I thought.. of that scenario... ... More specifically, it started off as "You're the General now, so command me however you like~"  
> I'm a horrible person.


	6. School Union

He came out of the dressing room with his index finger hooked into his tie awkwardly.

"Was this really necessary?"

"You're asking after you've already put it on."

"Just making sure."

After fiddling with the tie and collar a bit more, he sighed and gave up, letting his arms rest at his sides.

She'd talked him into trying on the uniform from her old school. His first reaction had been a teasing laugh with the inquiry, "So you're into that?" She didn't blush for once, though she looked away and muttered something he couldn't make out. He decided to humor her.

It was certainly more frivolous than the uniform he wore way back in his own school days. He didn't recognize the school it was from, but if judging based on the flashy design of the uniform itself, he'd say her high school education would have been quite above his.

She wore the matching girls' uniform, though he knew it wasn't actually hers. He'd seen her old uniform during their trip to her actual house in the residential district, and it was about three sizes too large to fit her now.

A thought occurred to him.

"I thought you went to an all-girls school?"

"I did, but it wasn't always that way. It was co-ed up until around the time I was born. They had enough funds to try separating students into two schools, so they tried it." She sighed. "As far as I know, grades generally dropped on both ends after that. I heard they'll be merging back to co-ed in a couple years."

"Ah." He shifted his shoulder away from the stiff material of the under shirt. Was his old uniform this uncomfortable? He couldn't remember. "So why'd you want me to wear this again?"

She looked up at him for a moment, then away again. If she was going to spend most of the time  _not_  looking at him wear it, he didn't see the point.

"If you're done, I'm taking it off."

"I just—" She cleared her throat and slowly shifted her gaze to his feet. He noted that the pants were a couple centimeters too short; they didn't even cover the socks. If it was tailored, he would have had some words for the seamster. She seemed to have the words caught in her throat. "I kind of wanted to know what you'd look like. What we would have looked like."

At that, she stood up and walked over to him, turning to look in the mirror propped against the wall. She gave a small smile at it as he turned to look at their image at well, but it looked just a little too frail.

And he found he looked too out of place.

She looped her arm with his. "What we would have looked like if we went to school together. If I got to know you back then."

Standing beside her as he was, even in matching uniforms, they didn't match each-other at all.

"By the time you were just getting into middle school, I had already enlisted."

There was no humor in his voice for once, making her turn away from the mirror and look up at him directly.

"I wonder how many lives I took before you even thought of joining the ARKS."

She tugged on his arm, prompting him to look down at her. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't really notice until now, but there's a pretty big gap in our ages, isn't there?"

She frowned. "Do you really think I care about that?"

He glanced back at their image in the mirror and sighed. But he nodded. It was only a momentary doubt— perhaps something of a premature midlife crisis. It was scary to suddenly feel old, but it was only for those few unpleasant moments.

"It's only six years."

That certainly wasn't helping to shoo the thoughts away, though. "And six years ago, touching you would have been a crime." He figured it was something they should have addressed at one point or another anyway.

"Six years ago, we didn't even know each-other. I probably wouldn't have liked you at all six years ago." She tugged his arm harder in irritation when it seemed like he wasn't looking at her.

He gave a tight smile. "Mm, you probably wouldn't have spared the me of then or even of before then a second glance."

She smirked. "Yeah. You would have been the teacher that frustrated me most, or the classmate that just inexplicably got under my skin."

He watched her expression in the mirror. He almost felt bad for leading her along that kind of thought, but... Her frustration with him was building and it was hard to resist the opportunity to get a rise out of her. So, he responded: "Exactly."

She frowned again and grabbed his face in both hands and he had to fight to keep the grin off his lips. "I'm a big girl, Chroto. I've been grown up for a long time now. Just 'cause you've been an adult longer than me doesn't mean anything for us."

For emphasis, she hooked her fingers behind one of his braids for more leverage and pulled him down to her, pressing their lips together for a few heated moments. He responded, placing his right hand on her shoulder for balance and his left hand over hers.

She backed off before it escalated, raising an eyebrow at him. "And I know you're not actually that worried about this."

He grinned sheepishly. "And for that, I'm glad!" It was actually quite relieving that she knew him well enough to see through his 'serious' jests. "I was actually worried for a moment, though. But it was just a thought."

"I know, and stop thinkin' it." She crossed her arms in a huff.

"Honestly. We just really don't match like this is all." He slipped the blazer off his shoulders and looked back in the mirror. "I look a bit like a creepy teacher, while you... well, you still look like a student."

Her eye twitched.  _'Give me a few more years and I'll probably look more than old enough.'_  "So you really were just playing it up to get at me?"

His signature grin flashed back across his lips.

"That'd better be the truth."

"It will be as long as I don't have to wear something like this again."

"Put the blazer back on."

"You want me to feel that way?"

"I want to take it off. Your petty drama delayed it and then you tried to take it off without me. You're the worst."

"So you  _are_  that kind of pervert~..."

"Like you weren't checking the hem on this skirt."

"That'd be mighty inappropriate, wouldn't it~"

She seized his tie in one hand and dragged him toward the dressing room. "Totally inappropriate, Mr. Criminal." He laughed and choked his way along with her and grunted as he was shoved against the wall and the door was shut and locked behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written: April 18th 2014
> 
> I don't care for those uniforms much. The frills on the girls' uniform just look like too much. The slacks on the boys' uniform are too short. (And Chroto strikes me as the type to know the finer points of proper fitting clothes.)
> 
> There is a bit of an age gap for Sherri and Chroto. Six years isn't a lot at all once both parties are already adults, but I guess at their current ages, it can seem like a lot. Especially when Sherri had just met him. (She was 20, he was 26) I think being in the same line of work makes up for the gap there'd be mid-way between generations, and of course they live in a space fleet. I doubt there's a whole lot of "interests" that separate the generations, unlike reality.
> 
> I didn't think about the gap at all when I started all this, but I figure it needed at least a mention, especially after having Sherri call him 'gramps.' He's lazy, he looks for excuses not to work, and saying "I'm getting too old for this" is a shortcut. She just rolls with it as a joke. But I don't think I handled it well here at all. It was made to look like it might be a major concern, and then just brushed away.
> 
> But, at the same time, I don't think he'd really mind it anyway. He seems like he'd not care about a lot of things that might bug most people. Like here, maybe just a sudden realization that they've got a bit of a gap, honestly feel like he's getting older, and then snap out of it. Him thinking they don't match is probably just because of his hairstyle and hidden features, anyway. Unadorned, he actually looks quite young.
> 
> ... I can rant about Chroto a lot, you see. A-anyway, the title is a play on "School Reunion," obviously. But they aren't exactly RE-uniting from school, now are they... (Thanks, "Greenpeace" :P)
> 
> EDIT: Okay so I didn't know he was part of Alice's client orders. Where he's considered a veteran. At age 28. So he must have joined really young. But I think he sounds a bit too educated to have just dropped out...  
> Anyway, I rewrote a bit of this so it sounds like he didn't go to college and just went straight into ARKS after high school :v  
> Really though, I just want to chalk it up to Japan being Japan and thinking anything above 25 is rickety old.


	7. Hands Ticking Away

She especially likes his hands, and she isn't sure why.

They, like the rest of him, are nothing special. They're skilled in many ways: pulling triggers at the rate of a stenographer; manipulating the photons that aid them both; lifting her if she needs it; touching her when she wants it. But none of that really warrants the amount of attention she places on them.

They're calloused, much like her own. They aren't particularly attractive or gnarled. They spend a great deal of time covered with gloves, but she doesn't mind. It's still him underneath the heavy materials, and she can recognize that from under her own gloves just from the way he shifts the tendons and muscles.

He spent so much time earlier on refusing to hold her hand, despite the heated moments, that she memorized it on the rare occasion he'd cave. Well, it wasn't that he refused such an act. He refused in public and she didn't get around to asking while in private for a while. After she had, he'd been more than willing to let her explore and simply hold on as much as she liked. It was always warm and almost overwhelmingly comforting, and all the more after he had voiced that he also enjoyed the contact.

She found that the way he responded did in fact change over time. At first, he'd hesitate before firmly returning the grip and look at her questioningly when she'd give a squeeze. Now, his fingers immediately wrap around hers as if the interaction was choreographed and pauses before returning the squeezes. Instead of asking, he analyzes the reactions she makes since he knows them so well by now. After all of her doubts, she's pretty sure she knows his reactions by now, too.

And right now, she knows he's afraid.

His hand is trembling only slightly, just like it did only a few short months ago. Their weapons are sheathed but ready to be drawn the moment the signal is given; their recovery supplies have dwindled from the last several battles they faced a mere hour earlier; their heads are bowed while they clench their teeth or bite their own mouths and try their hardest to keep their breathing steady to pretend that they don't want to run away.

And for once, there's no physical warmth. Both of their extremities have lost heat from exhaustion, the malfunctioning climate control, the dampness left over from sweating, and the fear that had set in.

But she feels the warmth on the inside as they both grip a little tighter. The other ARKS ops standing in the teleporter go unheeded as they did when The Elder attacked. Nobody's eyes are on them, but he wouldn't care even if they had been.

They're both scared of what exactly they might face once mission control finishes the briefing.

They're both scared of not coming back.

They're both scared of the other not coming back.

They're both scared that this might be the last time they feel the familiar grip of each-other's hand.

During the short flight here, they both saw dreams where they felt the grip loosening until falling away entirely.

But they don't say so. They don't exchange any words before or after the briefing.

_"Three..."_

As the countdown begins, they look up for the first time and— his trembling lessens, he squeezes her hand and he smiles for her. It isn't his usual grin, it isn't weak, and it isn't confident—

_"Two..."_

—she can't describe it or begin to explain why, but it makes her feel incredibly assured. Not confident or safe, but assured. She herself isn't sure what that means, but her own hand stops trembling and she returns the smile and pressure.

_"One..."_

Their blood pumping properly again, they take a fresh breath, let go and ready their weapons.

_"Go."_

The teleporter activates and they're disoriented only a moment before the sound of a ticking clock echoes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written: May 8th 2014
> 
> I didn't start this with that second half in mind. I just thought of her being very fixated on his hands. I don't think I could have portrayed a tender moment that gets it across very well anyway.
> 
> But I naturally go straight for darker places, and Draco Flux Rooster just came out recently. I wondered before how they might have faced Elder... Actually, I'd like to know how all ARKS fight Elder and Loser? Are ALL of us really jumping on them? Are there multiple clones of it? I don't get it... Maybe there's just so many people injured from the fights against the hands or Apos that there's hardly any ARKS left who can fight, so all of who's left face against the big boss.
> 
> Though, realistically, Sherri and Chroto probably wouldn't make it to the end if that's how it worked. They'd live, but they'd probably be entirely too worn out or injured to be of any use.
> 
> By the way, a bit of trivia, for those who don't keep up with the in-universe calendar:  
> You fight Luther only a little more than three months after you fight Elder. Time flies.


	8. Survey

Chroto saved and closed the notes from that day's final session and met Sherri's eyes again. "How are you holding up?"

She stretched out over the railing with a groan, "Could do with a drink. Or three."

"Ah, um... Excuse me!"

Both turned their heads to the voice that called out behind them. A young blond newman boy stood awkwardly with a notebook in hand.

"If you're here for the timed trials, they're done for today," Sherri spoke first, staring at the boy flatly. Chroto shot her a look and she ducked her head dramatically, muttering an apology.

Turning back to the boy, Chroto smiled politely. "Something I can do for you?"

"Yes, I was..." he straightened his posture, "I was asked to help out with conducting a survey. I was wondering if you'd be interested in participating."

Chroto's smile turned amused. "My, you haven't even introduced yourself yet, nor've told me what this survey's about."

Sherri elbowed him lightly, "Don't tease him."

"I'm not~"

Embarrassed, the boy tried to follow those instructions. "R-right! Ah... I'm Afin. Er, my name is Afin. This survey is targetted at veteran ARKS. We'd like opinions on the conflict between ARKS and native species. Rather, 'What do you think about ARKS fighting non-D-arkers?'"

While Sherri gaped, Chroto eyed the notebook then nodded and put a hand to his chin. "Sure, why not. Would be nice to be on the other end of these things for once. Pretty interesting question, too... Hm..."

Afin opened the notebook he was holding and unclipped the pen from the spine, ready to jot down notes from the conversation.

"I think if it's along those lines, you should be wondering 'What if we ARKS _didn't_ fight them?'"

"Hahah, that's what I was thinking, too. It's a pretty broad question, and, well..."

"Don't interrupt."

"R-right, sorry..."

"The number of those who fall victim to D-arker infection grows higher every day. It's a huge problem. What's more, it's something we don't really have a handle on." He tilted his head downward a bit, "...You realize that, right? It's not something we can very well leave be. Give an inch, and they'll take a mile."

The boy nodded, pen scrawling away.

"The ARKS can't afford to stop fighting them, even if it looks savage in the media." Chroto shifted his weight back against the railing, looking upward as he thought. "Some species have been infected so badly that they've gone mad; can't say their actions are really their intentions anymore. And at that rate, they might as well be dead." A small, sarcastic grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "To save them from being the 'living dead' is also the duty of the ARKS."

"You make us sound so noble..."

Chroto gave a sharp laugh, "Yeah, we're pretty kind folk, aren't we?" He sighed. "Even if the infection rate hasn't slowed down any, we should still be able to save them."

Afin smiled at his optimistic words and assured grin. It was great to see people who still believed in the ideals that the ARKS were originally built upon.

But his grin turned bitter. "...That kind of thinking is what gets you through the day." Afin's face fell. "Especially with 'practice missions' revolving around them and requests for their body parts being so common."

"...Yeah." After writing the last few words out, he shut the notebook and replaced the pen.

"Was that along the lines of what you needed?"

Afin scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly, "I honestly have no idea what they need. So vague."

"Much too common a problem nowadays, isn't it. Though, judging by that notebook, I'd say it's unofficial?"

Sparing the notebook a glance, Afin nodded. "It's just a client request from someone my partner's friends with."

"Right. Well, I hope that helps. Good luck with the rest of it."

"Thanks. Have a good day, sir." With that, the boy made for the stairs back down to the bottom floor.

Chroto sighed, then Sherri immediately asked loudly, " _Veteran?_ "

He turned to give her a questioning look, "Yes?"

"You're not old enough for that!" She took a step back, "...Are you?"

"Ha?" He cracked a wry grin, shrugging. "I'm twenty-seven."

"Th-thought so. You said so before. Right. So, how are you already a veteran?"

"I've been an ARKS op for a while, you know. Better half of a decade."

"B-but! ... But compared to older ARKS, you're just...." She waved her hands a bit as if struggling to actually spit the last few words out, "you're practically a baby!"

He couldn't stop the laugh that erupted, so he tried to muffle it with his hand. "Sherri! You sound just like those old-timers."

"Because it's true! There's non-CASTs who have been serving for longer than you've been alive! They could be your great-grandfather!"

"That still doesn't make me not a veteran. Hahah."

"S-still!"

He calmed down but kept grinning. "The requirements to be considered a 'veteran' in the military are actually pretty lax. In some cases, serving less than a year of active duty has been enough."

"That's not right! That's not right at all!"

"Hahah, why do you care so much about this?"

"I just do!"

"Well then, how about... compared to my years in the ARKS, _you're_ still just a baby?"

Her eyes widened in shock and she slumped back-first against the railing, sliding down to the floor. No. No no no no no, that wasn't what she wanted him to consider her at all. What had she done...

He kept his grin a few moments more before realizing she was serious. "... I was just teasing you."

"That was mean." She didn't meet his eyes. Goggles. Whatever.

He kneeled down in front of her and tapped on her forehead to get her to look at him. "I'm sorry, alright? You can be childish at times, but no kid could do what you do every day." He laid his hand on top of her head, petting back and forth.

Her eyes went from his lenses to his smiling mouth and back again. She frowned. "That'd be more convincing if you weren't patting my head like a child."

He chuckled and ruffled her hair, "Even adults like to be comforted some times." He stood back up and stretched, "Well, today's been long for me as well. Think I'll hit the bar before I head back for the night. Sure would be nice if I had a lovely lady to accompany me." He looked back over his shoulder at her, quirking an eyebrow.

Sherri huffed, crossing her arms with an awkward grin. "Jeez, you old war vets are all the same! A woman can't feel safe around you."

"Oh, so I'm dangerous?"

"... A little danger can be fun."

He smiled and offered his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written: May 18th 2014
> 
> As noted in "School Union," I didn't do Alice's client orders for a while. Then I finally did them and was a smartass about it. Talk to a hunter, a ranger and a force...? So I talked to Zeno, Aki and Wright, knowing full well who they wanted me to talk to. Interracial love? ... Zoomed in on Aki and Wright. (Haven't read through all the responses, but Aki's is summed up with "I don't care? I have no interest in it. Why are you asking me?" and fgjhkgfdhj aki pls) Hmm, veteran ARKS...? "Hahah, Chroto's not a spry 16-year-old like all these other fools, might as well talk to him lol" and then it worked and I freaked out.
> 
> Hmm, him not caring so much here probably contradicts the worry in School Union. This scene also probably contradicts the timeline, since here, it happens a year before PSO2 takes place... Let's consider this chapter as one of those many things that technically happened but don't quite fit anymore, all as part of the player character's actions.
> 
> Anyway, what's stated here about qualifying as a veteran is true. Some people have served only about 100 days, resigned, and qualified as a veteran. I only found that out after looking it up from the initial shock from this, though. I thought you had to serve more than a decade or something. Something extravagant! 'cause, see, as a kid, they made cheerleaders and boyscouts place flags on the graves of veterans, so I had this weird idea that veterans had to be super super old... Like, "nearly dead" old. What a bubble.
> 
> I didn't think Chroto would have been in the ARKS for such a long time, but I guess his cutscenes do kind of mention it. He's been in the ARKS since before the native life on Naberius turned hostile, at least. No idea when that was, though... (... and apparently he made a habit of petting them?) But still, I just didn't imagine him joining so early in his life. Sure, there's a bunch of teenagers in the ARKS, but Chroto comes across as quite well-educated, so I would have thought he had a full education... rather than dropping out for the military or something... :/ Well, in my headcanon, I guess he enlisted right after high school. There's also the fact that he's a lazy shit, so I'm confused why he joined ARKS in the first place.
> 
> Anyway, Afin here takes the place of the player character to do the client order since I couldn't think of someone to play the role of the player character. Chroto's answer is what he answers with in-game, translated by me with some liberties taken... up until the very end, where I have no idea what he's really saying, which is why it's so vague here. But that's a common trend with Chroto's scenes for me. I can understand him just fine until the end, where it just spirals into whatthehell. That's probably to do with his usual "Oh what nevermind forget I said anything lol" thing he does after he runs his mouth too much.
> 
> ... And the "just a baby" thing kind of comes from my mother. My father was in the navy, so I'd been to the nearby military base very frequently. Every time there was a soldier under the perceived age of 35 manning the gates, my mother (nearing her 50's) would say to them, "Oh, but you're just a baby..." to which they'd politely reply to the effect of, "I'm 29, ma'am."
> 
> ... Sorry, the thought of him being a kind oniisan type who pats a troubled child on the head is just so fuzzy and warm. W-well, he does refer to himself as "oniisan"... ...Guh...


	9. Seven Dwarfs

Sitting around either of their barracks watching TV wasn't an uncommon activity during their down time.

It was very rarely, though, that either of them spoke aloud in response to whatever they were watching.

If they happened to flip to a game show, they'd silently think of their own answers and the tension or lack thereof when the answer was revealed usually showed well enough whether they got it right.

That night, however...

"Which of the seven dwarfs best describes your partner in bed?"

"Happy."

"Lazy."

Their reactions to the other's immediate response were quite different. Where she grinned, he raised an eyebrow.

"Lazy?"

"Can you honestly deny it?"

"Since when were any of them named 'Lazy'?"

"The 191 version. Klutzy, Lazy, Sloopy, Smiley..."

He shook his head and laughed. "Still, 'Lazy'?"

"Mmmmhm."

"I'll show you 'lazy'..."

Before she could respond, she was being picked up bridal style and carted off for the next room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written: April 21st 2014
> 
> So I was deliriously watching Family Feud videos and that question came up. And I immediately thought of this as the only time I'd ever get to use that bit of trivia.
> 
> I'm kind of sorry. I'm not entirely sorry.
> 
> (Dates in this are flubbed a bit. The present year is 238. I substituted 191 for 1991. I DON'T KNOW, JUST PRETEND IT EXISTED.)


	10. Vitiation

I throw yet another childhood photo from the album into a pile next to me, flipping through the pages for the next one to hide.

I'm hiding the worse photos of me from before the ARKS boot camp before my mother can show them off. We're visiting my parents for the first time, so of course I'm anticipating her making Chroto sit through an album of horrible, embarrassing photos. Of course I'd like to go back and re-take them with my current body, but I wouldn't say I'm ashamed of how I looked back then. I just don't want the worst ones to be seen. And of  _course_  my parents would have kept every single photograph I sent home.

Page after page of a carefree, heavy-set girl race by and I pick out only the ones with the worst angles and expressions. From about age seven and on, I'd gradually gained weight and shifted my shape into that of an pear. I faced my fair share of teasing when I was younger, but it faded out around when I started attending private schools; the pressure to do well was high enough for people to focus more on their studies than their classmate's aesthetical shortcomings.

I didn't have much time to wonder why I kept so much weight on, also bogged down with studies. Thinking on it now, it was probably a combination of stress, stress  _eating_ , and the genes I inherited. Looking through the pictures of me with my parents, they both were and are chubby and happy, even though I know they eat healthy and keep reasonably active.

Flipping through the last few pages, I see the change myself. From the first day of boot camp to right before boarding the tram for the residential district this morning. I looked so happy, innocent, carefree and optimistic before enlisting. Not that I turned into the opposite or anything like that. I just got a dose of the real world is all.

Well, thinking on it more... My tongue got a lot harsher after boot camp. I never would have thought to say half the crap I do now. Even if it's all in good fun, the 'rudeness' I display with coworkers today would have gotten me backhanded. Flipping ahead a few more pages, I realize it wasn't just the academy that changed me, though...

I stare at the first picture of me and Chroto together. It was from behind, our shoulders brushing— well, more like pauldrons brushing —and both of our heads turned toward each-other with a grin, his mouth opened and in the middle of saying something. I forget what we were talking about at the time, but... somehow, seeing that look on his face (even if it's just his mouth) makes me feel really at ease.

There aren't any other photos of him. This picture was taken without either of us knowing until days later. An old friend from school had been in the military district as a surprise visit for me. She saw us from behind and snapped the picture, then gave me a copy of it before she went home. Of course she'd have to send a copy to my parents, too. I'd asked her to delete and burn the rest after I found out.

Chroto's a bit.. paranoid, I'd say. He hasn't openly said it, but it's pretty obvious he doesn't want to leave many traces of a possible weakness, whether his position in the chain of things makes that necessary to worry about or not. It's frustrating each time he stops me with that tight apologetic smile and hand raised between us to keep distance. I mean, it's not really anyone else's business, and it's annoying to see people like that anyway, but I'd at least like to hold his damn hand. But I understand his reasoning for it. It's frustrating on both our ends, I know, and we usually just blow off that frustration behind closed doors.

I cough and pull up my turtleneck. ... And pull down the hem of my shorts.

... A few years ago, I never thought I'd be hiding hickeys from my parents, either. He's really changed me a lot as well, for sure. Before I met him, I never even inadvertently dreamt of such lewd things. I'd spent almost a full year somehow both quietly  _and_  violently lusting for him, hoping the feeling would just go away. The things Chroto made me think of; the things he taught me to do... how vulgar and selfish my desires became because of him... The girl in the earlier photographs would probably scold me if she could even gather enough composure through either disgust or embarrassment.

_'Too bad she can't do that!'_  I toss the last picture into the pile with a grin, stuff them under the cushions of the couch for now and flip back to the one of me and Chroto.

I don't hate this change at all. If anything, I think I feel more free now; as if the me of back then wasn't given the chance to really become herself. Even if I count things like 'vulgar' or 'lewd,' I've also become much more honest, and this honesty has gotten me places, introduced me to people and taught me lessons that my plastic smile and 'completely with the flow' personality couldn't have possibly done for me. No matter what she'd say to me, I'm more than satisfied with myself and how I've turned out.

I owe a lot of that to Chroto, though not all of it. I'm glad I met him, and I'm glad I didn't give up— rather, that he didn't let me give up, as weird as that is. Whether it's all because of him or not, meeting him was what let me change myself, and I feel like I can grow even more. Looking harder at those smiles in the picture, I can say with confidence that I'm definitely happy with him.

"My, what could you be thinking about so intently?" I jolt in surprise at the sudden voice, looking over the back of the couch to see his less adorned but identical smile.

His hat and goggles were off as courtesy, but his hair was loose at my request. While what my parents thought of him didn't really matter to me, I figured his usual cornrows were a bit much to be bringing home to mother.

He approaches the back of the couch, so I close the album. He pauses, then grins wider, placing his hands to either side of my head, looking down at me as I stare up at him. "What are you hiding, hm?" He leans closer, his hair tickling my face and effectively teasing me.

"You'll be forced to look at it before we go anyway." I pout, reaching up to play with a piece of his hair. I really do like when he leaves it down. I tug lightly on it and he chuckles, leaning down the last few inches for a brief, somewhat awkward not-quite-upside-down kiss.

He still smiles despite how poorly it turned out, and I can't help but smile back. "They've been calling you for dinner for about a minute now."

"'kay." I slide off the couch and meet him at the back of it, and we head for the dining room side-by-side.

"You never answered. What were you so focused on?"

I grin to myself before we cross the threshold. "Just thinking about how much you've corrupted me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started: Some time the night of January 14th 2014  
> Finished: March 1st 2014
> 
> Not exactly how I imagined this would go. I'm not good at monologues and self-exploration. The prompt was pretty much exactly what you see here, just condensed into about 70 words. Oh well.
> 
> As mentioned many times before, Chroto is very suspicious/paranoid. I kind of wonder if he'd even be okay with showing affection anywhere, since it seems like absolutely everything is under surveillance. And then there'd be records of him going to the residential district for something. But then I remember he talks pretty openly to the player character, even if he backpedals a bit and says to forget about it. So I guess it can't be too bad, as long as there's not a bunch of people around.
> 
> ...Also, "meeting the parents" seems like maybe a bit much for him and their relationship. Probably went like this:  
> Sherri's mother asking more and more often about the people she's met → Chroto doesn't have the heart to ask her to lie → Parents insist and insist that they meet him → Sherri apologizes and begs him to go so they'll shut up → He agrees without a fuss → They go, he's a perfect gentleman to them → They get back, he's exhausted and asks politely yet somehow forcefully at the same time that she never ask him to do that again.
> 
> Oh, since I wrote this looong before "School Union," I didn't think about the mention of her old school uniform being too big. So, here's why. She lost a lot of weight. (And will probably put it right back on as she gets older. Damn genes.)
> 
> I wonder if we'll ever get to see him with his hair down. Maybe episode 3...


	11. Maiden by the Hand

The first time they were intimate wasn't exactly what she imagined it'd be like, but she still remembers it fondly as the lead-up to how they currently spend their time.

Though it could have been obvious from her initial confession that she'd never even fancied someone before, he bothered to ask if she'd participated in intercourse before. He'd been entirely without shame while she tried and failed to keep the heat out of her face and stutter out of her voice. For a moment, she wondered what that had to do with anything, which led to thinking of the possibility that he might not want her if she wasn't a virgin. He immediately elaborated without her voicing the worry, stating he just wanted a better idea of the pace he should try to set.

For a while, she wasn't sure if she was glad he kept such steady composure or if she'd rather he got lost in the heat of the first moment. On the negative side, one would indicate a lack of interest and the other a lack of concern. Of course, she knows he was holding back for her sake.

Once the flood gates were open, she saw how much he'd really been holding back. At first, she felt bad for making him wait, but then she remembered he'd been the one making them wait.

The first night, he teased her lightly and she hadn't a clue what to do, so she just laid back and let him, though she lamented that she wasn't the one to  _do things_  first. She'd instinctively covered her own mouth to stifle any noise, but he'd pulled it away with his free hand, muttering lowly,  _'Don't. I want to hear it.'_  Her neck and chest learned that his lazy tongue was good for more than just forming the words that drove her crazy, while the rest of her learned the versatility he built up from squeezing those triggers every day. But that was all she learned of him. He remained clothed, watching her with satisfaction as she came back down and denied her offer to reciprocate when she'd gained back the mind to make it; holding her dozing form to himself and subtly flexing his leg muscles until the slight protrusion at her backside faded.

The second night, she learned what he was trying to do, only because he told her outright— again, without a bit of nervousness. She didn't realize it the first time, but he'd been paying very close attention, from the tension in her body to her breathing, down to the elasticity of each fold and the time it took her body to properly warm up. He said he remembered old sex ed. classes teaching mostly rubbish, so she most likely didn't even know her own body; which she found was true the moment he started scissoring with just the tips of his fingers. Her hymen hadn't torn or stretched at all from all her work in the ARKS, and what little self-exploration she'd done hadn't taught her anything. It was just a little thicker than average, had a far smaller opening than it initially felt like and hardly reflected what lie past it, and had far less elasticity than both the inside and outside. If they'd jumped right into things, it would have torn painfully, if not halt him all together. He'd backed off once she learned this part of her body and assured her it was just as normal as the opposite; told her the best thing they could do was go slow until her body was as ready as she wanted it to be. She was embarrassed he knew so much more about her body than she did, but he just chuckled and blamed it on the classes. He didn't bring up how he might have learned so much about the female body and she was glad for that. Mood mostly simmered, they laid to sleep and she stayed awake worrying.

The following night alone, she tried and failed to make progress with stretching or tearing it herself, so she instead tried to read up on what she could do for him.

The third night, she didn't take 'no' for an answer and shoved him off to pull at his remaining clothing. He made half-hearted protests along the lines of 'there'll be time later' until she used her mouth to make his make much more satisfying noises. It was actually something she'd wanted to do before they were even together— not that she'd admit it to him. She'd been mortified the moment the thought initially crossed her mind, immediately drowning it by repeating 'he's just my boss' over and over. Finally being given the chance to enact that fantasy turned out to be a pretty good time for both of them, as his fingers running sporadically through her hair helped convey. She later learned that theory only did so much, but it'd been more than enough at the time. The refractory period was less than he himself anticipated, the sight of her cleaning up the results with her tongue being too much to ignore. However, she was the one to lose control in that moment. He stopped her with a strained grin before she could lower herself, joking that that wouldn't be fair. Her sudden tears were only partly a surprise. He wiped them away and assured her there was absolutely nothing wrong with her or the way they were going about this; that he didn't want it to live up to the lie that it was supposed to hurt. He convinced her with more than just his words that he wanted her to be able to give her physical and emotional feelings a physical outlet without being tainted by pain.

The nights that followed were much the same, minus the doubt. She gauged him as he'd done with her; memorized his reactions to various places and actions. She's grateful for the time she had to learn both his body and her own before having to learn how to sync the two, she's sure. While embarrassing, she's also grateful he bothered to teach her what school didn't, and erase the falsities that it did. However, she's the most grateful that she learned how to boldly pursue what she wants.

She stopped counting by the sixth night, so she isn't sure anymore how long it took before he decided it'd be okay. She still remembers the night well, though. She'd started atop him and kind of wanted to keep it that way, but he insisted they take the more traditional approach until she got used to it. His eyes and voice had been so painfully soft that he could have been requesting anything and she would have agreed.

He teased her relentlessly that night before they really got to it; brought her close and stopped more times than she can recall, all with that grin on his face. He made her say exactly what she wanted—  _'To embrace all of you,'_ she'd settled on and scowled when it made him laugh. There was more lubrication than was probably necessary, though she also found that her perception of his size up to that point hadn't included her own size in the equation. She'd tensed up and he told her to relax with a gentle massage at her hips. There was discomfort at first—  _not pain_  —and she'd demanded for him  _not_  to stop to let her adjust. When he was as deep as he could go, it was a rough but comfortable pressure at the very end of her insides. He acquiesced and added his hand into the mix, and she couldn't remember when the discomfort faded, but she remembered that it almost immediately was overpowered by the other sensations and the emotions running through the back of her mind as she watched him breathe. He'd held his composure and acted according to her body up to the point he hit just the right spot to make her start calling his name. At the time, she thought he was just encouraged by the perceived success, but she later learned and utilized his tendency to be spurred on by hearing his name. But there's nothing she remembers better than the exact harmony of both their voices, descended into vague sounds that resembled the others' name.

When he'd collapsed beside her, she decided she absolutely adored the way he looked when flushed and completely out of breath. When their eyes met again, she'd been caught up in the moment and wanted to say— something. Something that was important, but something she wasn't sure if she meant. She later decided that saying something so important for the first time at a time like that would have been an awkward mistake whether she meant the words or not.

Instead, she filled her open mouth with the only other thing she could think of:

_'Wow.'_

Well, that and his tongue.

Although that 'first time' had gone well, she'd already learned from him telling her, and later through doing, that it wasn't going to be like that every time. It was also embarrassing, but proper communication taught her it was also perfectly normal and nothing was wrong with either of them. Having never learned before all of that, she needed that reassurance.

She jokes to herself sometimes that he made her into a proper lover, not bothering to think about possibly correcting the terms or think too hard about what's considered 'proper.' She'd just come a long ways from the unknowing, clumsy and unsure mess. It's definitely changed since then; their usual personalities showing through after all the boundaries had been set. She was hardly embarrassed anymore and initiated plenty; he'd try to get a rise out of her by asking things like  _'how about here?'_  when he damn well knew the answer by now, and moving to be on the bottom plenty of times like the lazy lump he was. But they found they meshed incredibly well this way, leaving both feeling fulfilled whether they both reached their end or not.

Despite it proceeding how it did, there's a fuzzy not-quite-memory that fades more every day. Somewhere, she remembers their first act being near the total opposite. Sweaty and frenzied, absolutely painful from lack of preparation, filled with apologies yet determination to see it through. There was pleasure despite the diluted smears of blood, and a very different association with the act had been made. If that had ever been reality, she doesn't think she'd be as comfortable with sex. She'd expect it to hurt until it didn't, be sure there was something wrong with herself, and for far too long feel like what they were doing was wrong and shameful— just as she'd been taught.

She chalks it up to a particularly bad nightmare and decides, yes, thinking on that more, she's glad he held back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Start: February 5th 2014  
> End: February 7th 2014 2:08AM  
> Final edit: June 24th 5:59AM
> 
> Yes, I just wrote an author's note almost as long as the one-shot. Yes, I'm angry at myself for that. Yes, this is my first "lemon." Yes, I'm terrified of feedback on this one.
> 
> I realize this sounds less romantic or erotic and probably more informative than anything. It probably sounds like I've just walked out of a pile of pamphlets or something, but I don't think that's such a bad thing here. It's not supposed to be overly romantic, and it's not really meant to be erotic aside from a few lines. There's not really much wrong with being informative, either, when from this kind of perspective.
> 
> I suppose I mean, just keep in mind that this is from Sherri's perspective. (As well as from a more American perspective, where many schools do not have very good sex education and parents never teach their kids properly, and pleasure (especially female) is shamed. I'm not sure how Japan handles the various important subjects that America skips over/pretends don't exist/shames.) She had zero experience with sex and even desire in general, aside from being told it was wrong outside of marriage. My interpretation of Chroto is one that's very observant, very calculating, and very well-informed about anything he puts into practice. (Though, no, I'm not sure how many sexual partners my own interpretation of Chroto would have had.) Combining proper knowledge with how he knows Sherri and how impressionable she is, he would be very considerate of her in this early phase. She's eager to please to a fault, to the point that in that alternate scenario at the end, she would have continued doing whatever he wanted even if it hurt her or if she wasn't ready at all.
> 
> I see it as a character flaw that I've actually unintentionally given her, but has really grown into how I write her anyway. It's not a good thing for her to be that way at all, and she does grow out of it, obviously. I know some people could see it as a negative trait yet not as a legitimate character flaw, but more as a cheap means to make her more appealing. Just know that that's not my intention.
> 
> Oh wait. Hypothetical reader question: "If he's so considerate, where's the condom?"  
> I DID NOT FORGET THIS. I actually thought of contraceptives before even thinking of writing this. We in the present, mundane Earth already have pretty efficient means of contraception that AREN'T condoms. Injections for one or both sexes, and similar things. Even if our contraceptives aren't 100% effective, this is a sci-fi setting; they probably _would_ have a 100% effective injection that's _mandatory_ for all ARKS ops, along with full checkups, so they'd already know they do/don't have to worry about health risks. (Which are all the more important since they're on a SPACE FLEET.)
> 
> Also, this marks the beginning of two trends that you might see in future drabbles.
> 
> 1) Sherri and Chroto (and other characters?) will have memories they can't really place, or never remember actually happening. This is a reference to the player character's use of time travel and affecting various events. While the player character hardly ever has to talk to Chroto (and Sherri would never encounter them), I like to believe that even tiny actions could have changed some things down the road that have nothing to do with them. In this case, for whatever reason, it made him slightly more reckless and more likely to just let her take the lead without worrying about the fact that she has no idea what she's doing.  
> (Note: The "player character" in my drabbles, if they're ever mentioned, will probably be different people each time because I'd like to account for EVERYONE having been the "hero" in alternate realities. While this means Sherri might have been the "player character" in some alternate reality, I don't think I'll ever write anything where she is.)
> 
> 2) They both avoid saying "love." I actually have plans for a whole drabble or two dedicated entirely to this, so I won't talk about it much here. I just kind of wanted to draw attention to the fact that they've never said anything like even "I like you." Even during Sherri's confession, she said "I want you" and "I'm infatuated with you." and Chroto just kind of thinks about it on a scale of how serious they are about each-other without mixing in words like "love."


	12. Underestimated

He'd always encouraged her to be honest with him, no matter the subject. A few months after they'd become intimate, he'd thought he could finally relax as far as that went; that she was finally as open as she'd ever be.

Then, after a particularly hard and long day for both of them that ended with far too boring a lecture from a quite overweening senior ARKS op, they'd hit the bar just a little harder than usual. Okay, a lot harder than usual. They'd gotten carried away complaining at each-other, not noticing just how much they'd downed until they were leaning on each-other to walk straight.

Laying in bed and about to pass out, she was tracing over his chest, then had suddenly started rambling.

"...but, you definitely don't know...  _just how much_... I wanted you to  _do me_."

He'd started off chuckling, recalling how bad she was at hiding it. (She'd never gotten better at it.)

"...No, no, no, I mean, like...  _shit_ , the first thing that popped in my mind, when I first got  _into you_ , was like... 'I want to ride him like a feral pony.'"

Then he'd full-on laughed, unable to stop as she kept listing the odd analogies. (Heh.  _Anal_ ogy.)

"...but no, man, just... the things I wanted to  _do to you._  The things I thought I'd like you to  _do to me_."

Then he'd leaned in with interest.

"...All this stuff you've gotten me to try? So much more than that. We haven't done even half of it."

She'd begun listing a few, and his grin slowly turned from amused to neutral in an attempt to keep composed.

"...though I know that's not practical at all, and, it probably hurts- and not in a good way -and in practice, not sexy at all. But just, like, you know, that doesn't mean the thought of it isn't still  _super erotic_. And then there was one where you just...  _talked_  me off. Though you probably  _could_  do that; your voice is like audio erotica no matter what you're gabbin' on about..."

And she kept listing them.

And that was one of the few times she'd managed to make him feel embarrassed.

"Ppffhhaaha your face is reddd..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date started/finished: ? (Last edit: 8/4/2014 3:43pm)
> 
> The ones who start off quiet are usually the kinkiest. Or so they say, at least.
> 
> Mentioned senior is not an official character. Jan's cool. Joseph's a hardass but meh.


	13. Despair

"Despair," he sighed grimly.

"Carnage," she bit her lip.

Both words summed up the sight before them pretty well.

The sky was dark, yet hardly any stars were visible. There was minimal light pollution in the first place (there was less now, they noted as scattered glass fragments had crunched under their shoes), but most of the coverage was being done by the large clouds of smog and smoke coming from each and every mining tower.

The sun had just tipped over its highest point when the attacks had started. It'd been hours. How many, nobody was sure, aside from 'too many.'

They'd once again been limited to twelve operatives per unit. The moment they heard how much ground they were to cover and how few launch pads had been afforded, nearly each unit had tried to appeal for more manpower. There were apologies and excuses of not having enough people in the first place and of their navigators being unable to keep up with too many, but they all knew it was bullshit.

They were also afforded a few of the newest ARKS weapons: The ARKS Interception Silhouette, or A.I.S. for short. It was a high-mobility bipedal mech equipped with various short-range and long-range weapons. While it was certainly powerful and helped their odds immensely, it still didn't exactly save them. They just took too much energy to run for too little time. They spent more time scrambling for the crystals to power them than they spent actually using them. It was still certainly worth it for how much damage they did- not to mention the short rest that the pilot's limbs got.

The biggest problem was that none of them had proper training with the damn things. Some used it like extensions of themselves, but most of them had fallen flat on their faces at least once, among other fatal missteps.

Sherri had proven a better A.I.S. pilot than Chroto had, and he was definitely more useful outside of one than she was, so he'd handed over the crystals he'd collected.

She was sat upon the opened hull, trying to ignore the smoke coming from the back of it, along with the burning in her right leg that suggested something important had been stretched too far. She delicately wiped another trail of blood from under her nose, daring not to try and straighten it herself. She was lucky that was the worst of the damage done to her head.

She looked around what was left of the battlefield.

A blue-haired newman man with his right arm hanging limp, his left arm wrapped around the unconscious body of a pink-haired girl, and his uniform looked like it was only held to his body from the blood underneath. She saw them both firing off techniques earlier and could see the green hues of attempted restas washing over both himself and the younger girl he was cradling.

A black and red CAST was tending to an even smaller, green-haired newman girl that was trying not to cry as she tried in vain to re-assemble her broken guns. Shattered pieces of a katana that was swung too hard lay elsewhere.

A darker blue-haired woman was receiving treatment from a mostly unharmed orange-haired newman woman, scowling as she unjammed her rifle.

A purple CAST was trying and failing to silently fume as a heavily green-armored figure seemed to be pointing and laughing at something they'd said.

A woman who looked remarkably similar to the first newman man stood at the far edge of the perimeter, receiving a calm and quiet lecture from a redheaded man. Sherri didn't actually recall them being there during the fight, but they were the last two to make up their twelve-man unit.

...

And finally, Chroto sat propped against the broken leg of Sherri's A.I.S., still forcing his breath to stay even. One of his guns laid in a misshapen mess against the wall of the entrance to the facility from when a Wolgada had slammed him against it, and the other was by his side with the bottom severely cracked from a desperate strike against a Gol Drada's skull.

He was still rotating his right wrist from the shock of that strike. His left sleeve had been torn off and his arm had almost followed with it; it'd hurt something fierce in the morning, but he was grateful he'd escaped with the long, somewhat shallow lacerations and a ruined pauldron. He'd been interrupted in mid-air while leaping away from a sweeping kick, doing one or two more flips than intended with too much momentum and landed entirely wrong and with too much force on his right leg, which he'd had no luck with popping back into place. One hand just wasn't cutting it. By the way his back was curved, there was probably some lasting damage from the wall, too.

She was sure there was more than just that, but it was all she could see from where she was. She would have climbed down to help however she could, but her own leg felt like it'd crumble if she tried to use it.

The sounds of battle hadn't completely left the night; they could all hear it still going on in the distance. There were plenty of sections of the base that were still under attack, some that had already secured their quadrants, but most... Well, that section of the base was far from the only one contributing to the mass of black in the sky.

They'd been lucky to have no casualties on their end...

...

...

Sherri gasped as she lowered herself from the broken machine, trying not to put any weight on her left leg and moving her right arm as slowly as possible.

She was anything but graceful as she fell down next to Chroto, but she decided it was worth it to be down there. He turned his head to look at her, offering a weak grin. She returned it then winced as pain shot through her broken nose.

She linked her right hand with his left and leaned back on the A.I.S..

They all counted their blessings in their own ways that it was merely despair on their end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date finished: 7/20/2014 11:24pm
> 
> Well, I wrote it when TD3 was new and everyone was failing horribly. I like to think that the struggle we have when things are first released is just how they always are in canon. So it's always a close call at the very best.
> 
> Sherri works with machines a lot, so I figure she'd be a great pilot in exchange for being only average at normal combat. However, I can see Chroto being pretty good in an A.I.S. as well, since the ranged weapons are really the bread and butter of it. But then, since he's a Gunner, I could also see him getting a little frustrated with its clunky evasive maneuvers.
> 
> I have too many newman friends. Even the ones whose races weren't stated were mostly newmans. (Not stated because from Sherri couldn't see their ears)
> 
> First time I'm using a monster who doesn't have an officially localized name yet, so I tried guessing. They aren't exactly golden, so "gol" must be a separate part of the name, as it has been for various monsters in previous games. I'll come back and fix it if they ever get officially localized names.


	14. Team Room - Coast

A far-off splashing sound roused Chroto from his nap. He blinked until his eyes could focus again behind their usual goggles, then yawned.

It was becoming common practice for guilds to clear out an area on one of the planets and land their ship for as long as they could get clearance for. He'd been dragged along on some of these 'get-away's when he could get time off, but he couldn't say he disliked them. Each one had been surprisingly peaceful; he could even ignore the climate long enough to appreciate the natural environment without the hostile D-arker influence.

Wopal's Coast was especially relaxing on more neutral days, under a parasol... Yes, something about the salty breeze, the soft sand, and sound of the clear waves just made him want to fall right to sleep...

Gentle footsteps treading through the sand...

He sighed contentedly and let his head rest back on the chair.

Then found himself flailing as something was poured over his head.

He shook his head as it stopped shortly with a rather unattractive laugh from Sherri. He clenched his eyes shut and removed his goggles, shaking them out as he swore to get airtight ones in the future. Sand was still falling down from his shoulders and out of his hair by the time he cleaned his eyewear out and Sherri had quieted.

"Come on, you can't stay under the umbrella all day! My guild's only got clearance to be here for another week, and you've spent most of it inside. I'm tired of playing by myself!" She pouted down at him, bucket discarded beside her and hands clasped behind her as she leaned forward to make sure she had his attention.

As much as he wanted to be upset, he found it hard to focus on annoyance while basically being invited to look down her top. Ah, yes, he forgot those were rather nice, too, when not bound by armor...

As he opened his mouth to protest, something hit him square in the chest. He looked away long enough to gather and examine it. Sunblock.

"I don't want to hear anything about burning, either. The ship's got plenty of the strongest stuff they make. Your  _sensitive_  skin will be fine."

"I don't recall you putting any on?"

"I didn't, 'cause you never offered. Now I'll die of skin cancer and it'll be all your fault. Or I'll just get a killer sunburn and you won't be able to touch me for about a week."

Clever girl.

After a rather intimate exchange of sunblock application, he... laid right back down on the chair.

Sherri stamped her foot on the sand. "I'll dump more sand on you! I'll bury you in it! You'll  _bake!_ "

"Wait until the sun goes down a bit, at least. I'd still be miserable to move about in this heat."

"Fine, fine!" She stomped off down the shore to wait out the sunblock soaking into her skin, finding stone flowers to crush.

He couldn't say he hated being awake when she re-entered the water, flopping about without much care.

Then sunset came and found him by the water's edge, waiting for her to come out. She'd taken to floating and staring at the sky some time ago and had yet to take a break.

When she finally righted herself and looked to the shore to begin swimming back, she stopped to just watch him for a few moments, smiling as the sunlight behind her cast a rather nice glow over him and the area.

He greeted her with an outstretched hand and a smile. "I'm a man of my word."

Night found them circling each-other in the ocean like predators, laughs ringing out and faces assaulted with thrown water.

A few mostly tender kisses while treading brought a close to their time on the beach.

Upon returning to their temporary barracks, they shared a shower to be rid of the chill from the hallways.

And there was sand.

Lots and lots of sand.

As he growled in frustration and finally began undoing his braids, Sherri grinned to herself in victory.

He was only slightly annoyed when he realized that ulterior motive, but let it slide as her fingers moved through his wet hair.

* * *

Date finished: August 27th 2014

Yeah, not very good flow on this one. Really more of a thought than something that needed written. I'm sorry. I've been trying to think of things to do for each team room design. If you follow my tumblr, you might see some screenshots of them. Sherri and Chroto, I mean. In team rooms. Together.

Speaking of my tumblr, depending on what I ever get done, the versions of this posted on my tumblr may include some screenshots to not-really-illustrate the moment in question.

What I'm trying to say is "please follow me on tumblr." Same screenname, "definitelynotfrankincense".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date finished: August 27th 2014
> 
> Yeah, not very good flow on this one. Really more of a thought than something that needed written. I'm sorry. I've been trying to think of things to do for each team room design. If you follow my tumblr, you might see some screenshots of them. Sherri and Chroto, I mean. In team rooms. Together.
> 
> What I'm trying to say is "please follow me on tumblr." Same screenname, "definitelynotfrankincense".


	15. Working Class

"Wait, wh-what?" Panic rose in her eyes and voice as she leaned forward to demand elaboration.

Chroto shifted his crossed arms with a sigh. "We're losing funding. The resources and meseta are better spent trying to repair all the damages from the fight with Luther." He frowned. "While I wholeheartedly agree— never thought this was a good use of time, resources, meseta or manpower in the first place —there seems to be plenty of unnecessary renovations scheduled as well."

"And that means..."

"We'll have less openings for applicants soon, and less hours of operation. Not only will we have to turn a lot of people down, but a lot of our regulars are likely to be driven away from even trying to get in. They've already anticipated that, so the pay for success is actually getting increased..."

Sherri stayed quiet for a few moments, fidgeting awkwardly. "...What about me?"

He offered a reassuring smile. "You've been at this since nearly the beginning. Because of how you run the courses, you've provided plenty of useful data. Our branch is part of the renovations, so we're making a new course. If they have their heads on right, they'd be fools to reject you." He produced a piece of parchment and handed it to her along with the usual envelope. "So it's a good thing they didn't."

Her eyes lit up as she read her first scheduled appointment for after the renovations were finished. "Thanks... I don't know what I'd do if I lost this." Then it dawned on her. "... I really, really do appreciate this, but... just how much am I supposed to expect at the end of the day?"

"...Well, the old pay is about 30% of the new one, if you run through the actual training courses as well."

"...But it's only once a week, so... I'm still making less than half of what I used to."

"mhm..."

Silence hung between them as he worried about what she was obviously already planning.

"...I guess we'll just see what happens."

* * *

Renovations had taken surprisingly much less time than anticipated. Probably helped that they'd been temporarily relocated while countless people worked at it around the clock. Sherri kind of wished she'd been able to watch— and help —them work. She'd meant to go to college for that type of job, but found herself more comfortable as an ARKS op than she thought she'd be. Hopefully the option was still available by the time she finished off her old debts.

When everyone had settled back in, she immediately set about looking for more client requests. What few she found weren't even worth the recovery supplies she'd need to bring with her. Leftover funds from repairs and renovations had been distributed among officials for daily requests, which had fallen rather flat before. Even after driving back various D-arker influences, it seemed there was still plenty that needed done on each planet. Daily and team requests were given out as motivation to fulfill various objectives that the higher-ups wanted done. Now that the daily requests gave decent pay, there were hardly any left. She'd tried checking in at various hours only to find the new queue already taken.

After a week of living off her new paycheck and seeing what was left over, she decided she couldn't settle for such a slow pace.

But what else was left? She was technically on call, so she couldn't get a civilian job on top of ARKS work, if they'd even take her at all.

...

There  _was_  a new establishment on top of the renovations. It was still hiring. Being in the military district, it was surely free game...

* * *

She'd been given the go-ahead and took the last spot immediately.

It wasn't exactly on the top of her list of choices— the job or the uniform. (She'd decided the men's uniform was pleasing, though. Too bad she couldn't take one home.) The tights itched, the... leotard? Swimsuit? Whatever it was called gave a permanent wedgie and the top offered some of the worst support she'd experienced. It fit like a second skin and didn't feel like it'd fall down, at least. The heels were difficult to get used to, though. As far as she could feel, they were at least the height of her usual boots before she'd had them modified. Damn 10cm battle heels.

The bunny ears and tail were cute, though. And it was one of the only times she got to put on a bit of makeup. Her 'stage name' was certainly cheesey enough; 'Hearty' and 'Spadia' were already pretty bad, yet she found herself oddly anticipating what the next two names would be...

The job itself was easy enough. Parade around in a stupid costume serving drinks ( _'Especially when they're sitting. Remember to bend forward.'_ ), fawning over customers ( _'Amazing, sir! Wow, you're so good at this!'_ ), and explaining some of the machines to any newcomers. ( _'Make sure you remember our regulars. It'll keep them coming back.'_ )

Easy but stupid. But hey, sex sells. (She wasn't sure whether to be glad her muscles were fading from lack of client requests or not.)

The customers that actually bought it usually earned a barely-restrained grimace disguised as a charming smile. Anyone who actually thought the employees were doing anything but their jobs ended up being some of the grossest people. ( _'When I hit it big, maybe I'll buy you, next.'_ )

It had her feeling conflicted. She hadn't told Chroto about the job yet, and hadn't quite worked out a time  _to_  tell him. She didn't feel guilty about it until after the first 'friendly' customer. Of course, she knew she didn't have anything to feel guilty about, but that didn't stop it.

But she'd put up with it as long as they'd have her. The pay may not have been anything near what she'd been getting before, but it was her best alternative until they started regulating daily requests or other official side-jobs.

* * *

A slap probably would have gotten the same point across much quieter, in hindsight.

A sweaty, just off duty ARKS op lay in a crumpled heap next to the chair he'd been sitting in, holding his swelling cheek and checking to make sure all his teeth were still in his jaw.

Sherri flexed her right hand from the impact and let her left hand brush off her backside, trying to get the feel of the man's hand off of her. The tray of drinks she'd been carrying was set on one of the empty stools, and as far as Sherri was concerned, he should be grateful he wasn't wearing them as well. ( _'It probably would have come out of my pay,'_  was her thought before she swung her fist back.)

She couldn't stop the slight tremble in her legs and shoulders, having never been the target of such assault before. Other customers were staring and whispering after hearing the loud shriek, shout and crash. The other girls on staff tried not to pay any attention.

She soon found out why.

* * *

"I'm sure plenty of his story is bullshit, but we're still the ones who have to cough up to him." The stern voice of her new boss nearly bit into her. "He's demanding 1,200,000 for medical treatment, 900,000 for emotional distress, and 1,500,000 for therapy."

Sherri narrowed her eyes. "No judge would hear that."

The man behind the desk exhaled a breath of smoke. "He's saying he tried to get your attention for a drink and got assaulted for it."

She grit her teeth. "You  _know_  that's not what happened! Everyone here tonight knows that's not what happened!"

"The other customers only saw him after he hit the floor."

"And I suppose our cameras are just for show?"

"You know how much it'd cost to run those things?"

"No more than the ten billion gaudy lights..."

"Security's pricey these days. We employ ARKS ops for a reason. They double as security and if we're being honest, they're desperate for employment."

"And that's why the other staff sees and hears nothing?"

"Exactly."

"Then what kind of security do they even provide if they aren't allowed to defend against shit like this?"

"Because  _'shit like this'_  is what gets them paid. Prostitution is still illegal."

"You can't be serious..."

"As long as they're in our establishment, they're giving me meseta. The happier they are, the more they come back and the more they give. The more I make, the more you make. The girls who don't mind it are free to do whatever they want after-hours for a little extra."

Biting her cheek was all she could do to keep from screaming.

He smirked back at her. "You should be grateful I didn't fire you on the spot, you know. I'm quite a forgiving man. Just make sure it doesn't happen again." He reached across the desk and patted her on the cheek.

She smacked his hand away, abruptly stood up while removing her right glove and delivered a sharp slap across his face.

"I quit."

* * *

Chroto could hear a rather obnoxious clicking sound across the metal floors of the gate area. It was somehow not uncommon for rather high heels to be incorporated into their armor, so it wasn't exactly a foreign sound— but it was quite aggressive. Someone was pretty angry. By the time he looked over the railing, whoever it was was gone. He relaxed his back against it until he realized it was coming up the staircase.

_'Oh please no. Not another one.'_

He expected another upset regular who'd just found out about the recent changes, who he'd have to explain and apologize to and probably spend an hour or two trying to work them into a schedule that had no room.

The figure that rounded the corner, though, caught him off-guard.

_'Today's not my birthday.'_

Sherri was approaching him quite quickly in what could hardly be considered clothing— not that there was any shortage of exhibitionist ARKS who somehow got away with wearing much, much less —with a rather livid expression. As she got closer, it was hard not to notice the ah,  _bouncing_  with each step.

He could feel a nervous sweat starting at the back of his neck.

"A-ah, Sherri... Your next appointment isn't until tomorrow. To what do I owe this visit?" He tried to keep his voice steady as she stopped in front of him, breathing at least half as hard as she'd been stomping. (She could have just taken the newly-installed lift, but she never seemed to remember it existed.)

She opened her mouth, but for once, he found that to be one of the less interesting parts of her. He was hardly aware of his eyes drifting over her body. While she presented him with plenty of time to appreciate her, it was somehow just different under the lights of the very public gate area.

"...because all the client requests  _suck_  and they aren't regulating the official requests at all!" She stomped her foot.

_Bounce._

He was suddenly glad for the mirror coating on his goggles.

Her shoulders were exposed, and he was just a bit sad to see they'd become softer along with the rest of her arms. The top of the whatever-it-was seemed to stop  _right_  above her areola and dipped down in the center to show an impressive amount of cleavage despite there not being much lift. They certainly looked soft this way. And a little closer to eye-level. Did she get taller than him?

"...and their stupid drinks are all carbonated  _crap_  that go flat by the time you make a whole lap around the damn place!" She leaned forward and growled.

_'Oh...'_

It fit perfectly like a second skin, hugging what had been hard-crafted muscle and had now turned into rather soft curves. He couldn't see the back, but from the high cut leading from her wide(r than normal?) hips down to her shapely thighs, he was sure it complemented that side of her just as well.

"...and this is the first time I've really thought men were horrible! The guys in the academy and everyone I've worked with have treated me with respect until now!" She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to the side with a huff, revealing a small fluffy tail attached to the back.

_Yes, it certainly did wonders for her backside as well._

_Goddamn, you could run a card through it._

_He could probably—_

"...and I won't stand for it!" She threw the rabbit ear headband down on the ground with a sneer and it was like a spell was broken. His attention snapped back up to her face. "A filthy, degrading job... They just, just expected me to be fine with those perverts touching me however?!"

 _'Wait—_ what _.'_

He pressed his lips together.

"I shouldn't have stayed past the first rude comment, let alone the first grope. But I'm done now. I quit. I'm not putting up with that, and none of those girls— hell, probably guys, too —should have to, either, but that's not really my business..."

 _'Someone had_ touched _her?'_

He offered her his hand as he started preparing something to say, but she seemed to just suddenly break down at the gesture, flinging her arms around his shoulders and sniffling.

"I didn't mean to keep it a secret, I swear. I'm sorry... I didn't mean for anything like that to happen..."

 _She_  was the one who'd been harassed, and  _she_  was sorry? No. Absolutely not.

"Hey. The economy is still shifting thanks to the repairs, renovations and lay-offs, and we've both been busy." He ran a gloved hand through her hair. "None of what happened was your fault. You have every right to be upset to every extent, but you should  _not_  be apologizing— for  _anything_." He gave her side an assuring squeeze.

And hoped nobody would happen to be walking by to see them.

She must have sensed his anxiety, as she untangled herself from him and wiped at her eyes. "I know. I know that, but... I still feel guilty. I didn't tell you about it, and then..."

He offered a soft smile and placed his hand back on her head. "Don't worry about that."

A few more tears smeared what was left of her makeup, and he just realized she actually looked quite the mess. He felt bad for getting distracted before, seeing the situation was actually quite serious for her. (And in the back of his mind, noted that while not unwelcome, he preferred the muscles she'd worked so hard on to the softness it was turning into. Also damn his armor during that hug.)

He'd look for more work that the both of them could do together.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Wash off the war paint, relax, catch up on some of that sleep I know you've been missing."

She smiled and sniffed, turning her eyes to the ground. "Uh... Could I...?"

"Of course. You know your ID's always on the green list." He grinned wider at the thought of coming back to an already warmed bed at the end of the day.

She stilled then looked back up at him, her eyes suddenly quite ah... fierce... "I really need to blow off some steam, but I really don't want to suit up this late in the day. Or fight in this."

Oh boy.

"Get ready for loud, violent sex."

The healing process was different for everyone, it seemed. Not that he was complaining. His back might in the morning, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date started: September 25th 2014  
> Date finished: October 6th 2014
> 
> Takes place right before episode 3 starts, obviously. Trying to explain away some of the changes and how they'd work, as well as some issues/thoughts that people had at the time. (The launchpad to the second floor, casino NPC's names, etc.)
> 
> All stemmed from a screenshot of Sherri posed in the casino. Ms. Noah offered the plot, which I had the rare pleasure of writing in her presence. I can't find that screenshot anymore, but maybe I'll re-take it some time.
> 
> It was fun. I don't spend a whole lot of time describing the physically desirable aspects of ladies.
> 
> Sherri's height is a tricky thing. The highest that heels go in PSO2 is 10(1/2)cm, pushing her to 177(1/2)cm in her usual HUnewearl armor. Chroto, in his armor, is 181cm. Despite this, when they're stood side-by-side, she'll often appear taller than him, even with his hat on. Very strange. (That half a cm comes from the height flickering between two numbers.) But as said, Sherri would have had her boots modified to have much thinner, flat soles, so she'd probably only have maybe 3cm soles.  
> For reference, he's 179cm without shoes, and she's 167cm without shoes.


	16. Unneeded

 

“Can we go soon?”

“It’d be awfully rude to leave early.”

“She’d understand.”

“They haven’t even cut the cake yet.”

“Exactly! They’re dragging this out way too much! Do vows really have to take that long?”

“ _I_  thought they were well-written.”

“Since when were you such a romantic?”

“I just appreciate good penmanship. Yours could use a little work. I’ve read your reports.”

“They get the job done and get my paychecks signed. So can we go?”

“ _No, Sherri._ ”

The redhead scowled and clenched her teeth together. “Come on! These shoes really hurt, are hard to walk in, I have half a mind to step on your feet, and this dress itches…” She picked at the material on her chest.

Chroto slapped her hand away. “Then you should have complained while you had the chance. You helped pick that out.”

“It didn’t itch then!” She picked at the long gloves.

He moved his hand down the arm she was picking at. “This is  _your_  friend’s wedding. Shouldn’t I be the one complaining?” He grumbled as their feet collided again. At least she didn’t step on him again.

“Can’t D-arkers attack or something so we can get called out…”

“Sherri!”

Her pout seemed almost  _violent_.

“If you’re really bothered that much, you can make up something about paperwork.” Her face lit up— “ _After they cut the cake._ ” —then fell.

“That’s it! I’m going straight to my own barracks when this is over and  _you can’t come with me._ ”

“What ever will I do…”

Chroto sighed as Sherri went back to pouting. While she hadn’t seemed particularly excited when she’d invited him, he didn’t expect her to end up being so fussy— especially after all the time she spent getting ready.

He was actually pretty annoyed. He’d also taken the time to get all dressed up— damned tie —and had even bothered with his hair for once. She’d mentioned plenty of times how much she liked when he let it down, but now that it was, and even  _straightened_ , she was spending more time complaining than even paying attention to their moving feet.

It seemed everyone except Sherri had taken notice when they’d arrived. Well, everyone he’d introduced himself to prior. Living in the military district left Sherri with little time to see old friends, and he’d had no real interest in meeting them either. On occasion, though, one or two would come and visit the military district to see her instead. Unfortunately, they seemed to like surprise visits, since most of the time they just dropped in while he and Sherri were trying to restock on supplies, get equipment maintenance done, or settle down for the evening.

Those few who had known of him before the wedding had been surprised and given compliments along the lines of ‘You clean up well.’ Well, if they recognized him at all. He wasn’t sure if he should really take either reaction as flattery or not.

But Sherri had hardly spared a second glance at him when they met up. It was almost curious how she subtly avoided looking directly at him. Awfully familiar, too.

He winced as she stepped on his foot again. She muttered an apology and he grumbled. “It’s a simple waltz.”

“I’m  _so sorry_  I can’t do a 'simple waltz.’ Didn’t exactly get to practice in high-school.”

“You’re trying too hard. It’s just back and forth.” He stopped them and re-adjusted their arms. “Just focus on me. We work in near-perfect sync in plenty of situations, so just think of it like that.”

He gave an encouraging smile as he restarted their swaying with the music. Her face gained more color as she finally focused her eyes on him for the first time that day. Her movement unconsciously started following his as she let herself take him in.

“So, why have you avoided me until now?” His tone of voice gave away that he already knew the answer, and she felt like she was regressing back to those earlier nights on the bar stool beside his. He wanted her to answer anyway.

One thing she did differently than she would have before was that she kept looking at him. His calm green eyes, his hair falling softly to frame his face. “… You know why.  _All_  of my attention would have been on you if I let myself stop to look at you. And today isn’t your day. Pretty much every day except today is your day.”

“Really? I had no idea~” He took advantage of her distraction and spun her out— was that even part of a waltz? Who cares. —then much closer than they had been. With her mind not on it but her body following his cues, she gasped and only stumbled a little.

They still swayed, but her hand slipped from his shoulder to his chest from standing too close. They leaned their heads together and she felt just a bit lightheaded as she caught his subtle cologne and shivered from his breath near her ear. “… And I don’t want it to seem like I appreciate it that much. I mean, we both put effort into appearances today, but… I don’t want this to seem like I care that much about it. Because I don’t. But you know that. But they don’t. And I’d feel weird about it, too.”

Chroto chuckled low, making her shudder again. “Is that so? Last I heard, you thought I was quite unsightly.”

“Don’t get me wrong! You’re still really weird-looking!”

The music had come to a stop, but…

He grinned. “Too late, you can’t take it back~”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You implied it~”

A crowd had gathered at the far end of the dance floor, around the stage…

Sherri growled. “Implying isn’t the same as stating! I never said I thought you looked handsome!”

Something sailed over their heads…

“You just did, hehee~” His teasing laugh was cut off by her hitting her fist against his chest. Ah, her face was so red, too…

“Idiot! You may look better with your hair down, but my Chroto wears stupid, ugly cornrows and bizarre goggles to protect his dumb,  _sensitive_  eyes!”

A bunch of collective gasps were heard, and one shriek, “Sherri, look out!”

Both let go and instinctively stiffened. Sherri quickly turned around, swinging her arm up first in defense with a shout and—

Flower petals flew everywhere.

There was silence as all eyes turned to her.

She was confused for a moment and looked around to try and gather what had happened, then saw the destroyed bouquet several feet away.

“Oh.” She coughed, stood up straight, then bowed. “I’m so sorry!”

The bride rubbed at her shoulder from the hard throw and muttered to herself, “This is what I get for trying to help…” She brightened again and called everyone’s attention back to the stage.

Sherri didn’t turn back to face her partner, standing rigidly, pointed toward the stage. Her face matched her eyes quite nicely.

Chroto was also sporting a bit of a blush for once, scratching at his cheek and looking away.

“So, ah…  _your_  Chroto?”

She fidgeted. “… Yeah.”

“ _Yours._ ”

She spun around to glare at him, her face still burning. “Yeah! _Mine!_  Weren’t you listening the first time?! I said I wanted you! And you agreed, and you can’t take that back!”

It was rare that he didn’t have anything to respond with. It was even rarer that he wished he could hide behind his goggles. As predictable as they were to each-other, she still managed to surprise him at times. That was… probably the closest thing to a proper confession that either of them would ever get. It was always unsaid, but they both knew it just wouldn’t ever take the form of the typical few words, no matter what the feelings really were. These words that they  _would_  say were easy to miss by anyone else, yet felt so precious. He couldn’t just let them go.

She may never hold a bouquet like that, but…

“…Then come here.”

She didn’t hesitate at all, marching right up to him with her face still flushed and mouth in a tight line. She waited while he wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulders, trying to keep her heartbeat slow enough to hear him.

“You can’t take those words back, either.”

“I know. Do you want me to say it again? You’re so embarrassing.” Her voice shook slightly, but her volume was confident.

He smiled softly, rubbing circles on her shoulder. “Mm. Say it again.”

“I want you.” Her voice cracked a bit.

He leaned down to say it in her ear. “You have me.”

“And you?”

“Want you.”

She wrapped her arms up around his back, leaning her chin against his shoulder to feel the quieting beat. That fluctuating heartbeat was somehow a mutual comfort. “I’m here.”

He sighed contentedly and nodded. “You’re here.”

Another petal fell from the bouquet.

* * *

Last minute omake:

“The laws across the ships can be kind of different… Almost like states.”

“Indeed. Different accents and languages at times, too. Tends to happen when you’ve been a traveling nation for so long. Hard and easy to believe we’ve been among the stars for over a thousand years.”

“Yeah… um… Hey…”

“Hm?”

“I know Newin’s wedding was just yesterday, but uh…”

“…”

“…Got an invitation to an engagement party.”

She was smiling rather than grimacing like she had before.

“Joyce and An. A few days ago, back on the home planet, it finally passed. They don’t let people go back very often, but they got approved for the next transfer. They’ll be moving back there permanently to settle down and start a family. I’m really happy for them. They’ve struggled for a long time.”

“Heh. Guess I wouldn’t mind. Just a shame that most won’t be able to see the ceremony, if they have one.”

“Mm. No rest for the wicked. D-arkers aren’t gonna kill themselves.”

* * *

[ ](https://farm1.staticflickr.com/339/19092778159_a69feda451_o.jpg)

  
Click for full size

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished: 2:38 AM 5/14/2014  
>  Edited: 9:23 AM 5/23/2014
> 
> So, uh… I write about current events a lot. General election, school uniforms, Draco Flux Rooster… Of course, the next set of wedding outfits and the wedding lobby are also current… and I thought about it… (Rather, they WERE current when I started writing this. And then it was relevant again a year later. lol)
> 
> This wasn’t… really what I meant to write. I just kind of wanted Sherri complaining and wanting to leave, not notice the bouquet toss, and accidentally attack it when it came her way. It just kind of… ended up like this. Sappy.
> 
> Uh… I guess this also doesn’t really match up with how I keep saying he doesn’t like showing affection in public? Well, this is a private event, I suppose. Anyone there who knows him are already aware of his being with Sherri, and anyone who doesn’t know him won’t recognize him later anyway. Meh. If I really wanted him to be paranoid, he’d probably refuse absolutely all of it. I doubt the barracks are without surveillance (even in private quarters— ARKS seem like they don’t give a shit about privacy or ethics), and all missions are supervised by mission control or something in some way. It’s probably the extreme kind of Big Brother where nobody takes a dump without it being on record.
> 
> It was addressed in an earlier chapter that they don’t say words like “I love you” or “I like you.” Just a reminder.
> 
> Also the thing that sailed over their heads was the garter. Darn, both hits missed!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Omake written: June 27th 2015
> 
> Same-sex marriage became legal in all 50 states of America on June 26th. May many a wedding planner eat well.
> 
> At least at this point in time, the home planet of ARKS has not been mentioned at all, but we have to assume one exists. Similar to previous entries in the series, there would be different laws. I figured it would be appropriate for the “home planet” to stand in for “America” in this instance since PSO2 is pretty much Japan only (SEA? What? I don’t want to swim.), and Sega was originally an American company. (Well, actually Hawaiian, founded in 1940 before Hawaii joined the United States in 1959. But hey, details, details…)


	17. Videogames

_"Sounds like you guys need a hobby. Don't you have any games?"_

"I wouldn't blow money on that kind of stuff right now, and I'm not about to suggest it to him. It seems too frivolous."

_"Oh! You could borrow my Futura! I'm not getting much use out of it anymore, so you can just send it back whenever. Or keep it. They'll probably announce a new one soon anyway."_

"We're perfectly fine spending our free time doing nothing."  _'Yes, nothing.'_

_"What's the mailing address for your barracks?"_

Sigh.

* * *

She found it was much easier to jump into the controls than when she was a kid— not that she spent much time on them back then. Chroto seemed to take well enough to it, though he'd said afterward that although it required far more effort, the real thing was definitely more satisfying.

There weren't many true co-op games in the pile her friend had sent. Plenty of single-player games that had a two-player mode, but the only one with a decent co-op mode was an FPS she kept confusing the name of with about six others she'd heard of on TV.

Split-screen was  _really_  cramped.

But they made a good enough team either way. It probably helped that it was made with ARKS in mind; the controls were somewhat similar to that of an A.I.S.'s. Well, as similar as they could get on a gamepad.

Having had experience with A.I.S.'s, Sherri found herself excelling quickly enough that she didn't even realize she was hooked.

...

The community sure was awful, though.

If their words were to be believed, her mother had quite a thing for young gamers and she was so very excessively homosexual that she just couldn't stop all the genitals from flying into her mouth. Oh, was it satisfying to hear their anger. Satisfying, yet sad that they couldn't handle such a petty loss. It was just a game, jeez.

* * *

They decided to try 1v1 one day for the hell of it.

Chroto was well-focused and precise, but wasn't really all that invested.

Sherri was on the edge of the couch with her hands sweating.

It was a close match.

"HAHAH, YEAHH!"

"Um..."

"YOU SEE THAT?! YOU SUCK!"

"...Er..."

"KNOW WHAT ELSE YOU CAN SUCK? MY DICK."

"...Uh... Sherri..."

She froze in her adrenaline-fueled victory stance.

He stared, questioningly and slightly horrified.

" _I-I'm so sorry_..."

"...You've been playing without me, haven't you."

"It rubs off. It was either that or imply I've done your mother."

"Yeah, I'd prefer the dick."

He could almost swear there was a faint heart rising and popping above her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written: July 22nd 2014
> 
> This time, Ms. Noah saw a Square Enix ad. So, videogames it was.
> 
> This was all I could think of.
> 
> "Sega Futura" was the name on the Sony survey that had everyone freaking out, thinking Sega was making a new console. It was that or use "DC2" (*sob* what a glorious future we would have had)
> 
> ...
> 
> (860): Don't be nervous. I'm just saying - if you had a dick, I'd suck it.


	18. Kinktober 2016 Prompts [NSFW]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am aware I change tenses throughout these. They should all still be self-contained, though.  
> And yes, I'm posting 2016's prompts in 2017. I wrote them last year, and I meant to post them a couple months afterward in one big chapter like this, but I just kept wussing out.  
> Also I had two lists of prompts to work off, so there'll be more numbers...  
> ...And also some of them went to Aurum instead. And some got shared, as the "(Either)" tag indicates.
> 
> Anyway. Not all of these actually have sex even alluded to in them because I'm a huge pansy. Yeah leave it to me to participate in KINKtober and end up with a few prompts that are only fluff.

1-1 - Fast

She was never one for subtlety. If she wanted something, she said so outright.

She also didn't seem to grasp the concept of a striptease unless she was on the receiving end; her own clothes would be off and flung across the room in seconds.

That wasn't to say he disliked her way of doing things— at least when she took full control and he could just lay back and enjoy himself. It was something he didn't often care to expend the energy for if it was up to him, and he appreciated the different type of passion it brought.

* * *

2-2 - Dirty Talk (Either)

He'd never given much thought to his own voice before; whatever came out was whatever took the least amount of effort to create without needing to repeat himself.

But apparently his voice  _did things_  to some people.

Combine that with a passive enjoyment for teasing, and, well...

"You've had that look on all day. Did you think I wouldn't notice you undressing me with your eyes? I'd be more surprised if the people around you  _didn't_  notice you fidgeting, trying to keep those daydreams under control. What was it this time? You seemed awfully fixated on my neck. I know you've wanted at this from the start. To leave your mark here. If you're good tonight, I might just let you. How does that sound?"

If he sounded anywhere near as good as the replying moan did, he could totally understand it.

* * *

7-1 - Lust

Lust was the first thing she knew she felt for him. Confusing, debilitating, undeniable lust.

Her eyes would watch his lips as he talked instead of trying (and failing) to make eye contact through those damnable lenses of his. She'd watch the way his hips swayed ever so slightly as he walked and fight off the urge to reach out and squeeze them. She'd blush as his coattails were blown upward, giving her a clearer view of his thighs, hugged tight by fabric. She'd zone out to his low drawl until she could imagine it was right next to her ear, whispering all the things he (she) wanted to do.

She had to make the conscious effort not to kiss him silly every single time she saw his silhouette.

She'd dream of knocking him down onto her bed, where he'd grin up at her and grip the sheets in anticipation.

And now that she has him with her in reality, where she can't honestly say something as strong as "I love you," she wonders if lust is all she really felt for him.

* * *

7-2 - Creampie

It was a strange yet familiar feeling.

Of course, she'd spent her whole life being annoyed at the things just deciding to slide out from her nether regions, so she was no stranger to the sensation.

Still, as he pulled away and they lay there for a minute or so, the feeling of his seed suddenly dripping out to make an embarrassing splotch on the sheets below her was somehow pleasant.

She could only guess it was because it was him; something he'd done to her, instead of something her body did  _against_  her.

* * *

8-2 - Latex/Leather

At some point, skin-tight leather had been upgraded into a piece of armor.

Nobody who utilized it had an explanation for how, what or when, but somewhere along the line, they had stopped being a sexual punchline.

But it was ARKS, so she wouldn't be surprised if the sexual punchline was the answer to why such optimization had eventually happened.

As she held Chroto's coat while he tried to shimmy through a tighter space than the pauldrons would have allowed, she certainly had no complaints.

* * *

10-1 - Bouncy

They were hypnotic the first time she'd bared herself for him. It hadn't taken much force for them to sway out of time with the rest of her body, and he admits that this was part of the reason behind the deliberately fluctuating tempo he'd set; to see just how the mounds would react to different amounts of force, in different intervals.

During the first time she'd taken control, it wasn't long in that she'd used an arm to help support them. He'd joked that she was putting on a show for him, but she snapped back that they hurt.

He couldn't find it in himself to complain when she often kept the upper half of her clothing on. It had its own charm.

* * *

11-1 - Transportation  **[*1]**

It didn't come as a surprise to find that each campship had monitoring cameras hidden about, but she was incredibly annoyed in  _how_  she found out.

The trip from one planet to anywhere else took much longer than when departing from the fleet. The lack of launch assist and the possible complications during travel kept them at a slow, steady,  _safe_  pace.

They'd spent nearly twelve hours digging around the most humid part of Naberius' Greenscape to finish the 'simple' farming job. It took another hour of showering aboard the ship to remove all the sweat and dirt, and they showered together just in case water reserves ran low.

And he whispered 'don't' when she spent longer washing his back than was strictly necessary. Figuring he was still worried about water, she didn't push him further.

The small bedroom's door slid closed as her hands reached for his hips, and he briskly dodged contact with a stern look and a subtle nod towards one of the corners of the ceiling.

Fucking hell. She had had just about enough of Big Brother cockblocking her.

It didn't take long for her to find her way around it. Extra missions to and from everywhere and anywhere just to learn where all of them (and their microphones) were, how they worked, how closely monitored the footage was, and what would happen if fake footage was discovered.

Simply put, ARKS higher-ups were as stupid as they were paranoid. A jammer and a bit of looped audio/video later and they found a few more hours for themselves each mutual work day.

The sheet she threw up over each of the cameras was just a silly formality.

The beds weren't exactly comfortable, but they also had their own charm. There was something just a bit romantic about it. Time they couldn't really spend doing anything that didn't involve each-other or introspection, spent lost in warmth in an unfamiliar bed among the stars while not a single soul could possibly see or overhear.

* * *

14-1 - Outdoors  **[*2]**

On the field was one of the only places without surveillance— as long as you departed under the right pretense.

Their own cameras were set on some distant rocks that conveniently matched their own heights, observing the desert weather as they had set out to do.

They hadn't intended on it happening— or at least, Chroto didn't. Of course they'd taken it because it involved doing absolutely nothing but waiting, but taking advantage of the situation hadn't crossed his mind. The evil little smile on her face should have been ample warning.

"Sherri— no, c'mon, it's gotta be 38 degrees out here,  _I'll die._ "

The sand gave beneath him as he was shoved backwards.

"Try 26. It's getting late. You're not going to die."

Her lips were already at his neck, right hand rubbing at the front of his pants while the other dug into the sand for support.

"Amn— I'm already sweating enough, yeah?"

She nipped at his jaw and started pushing his coat's hem upward.

"If sweat smell turned me off, I wouldn't have this job. Go ahead and slick up that suit."

It was already uncomfortably moist all through it the moment they left the campship. His goggles were starting to fog with each heavy exhale.

"Sa-saahhnnd... isn't... You don't want to get..."

His head was spinning by the time she'd worked his zipper open and took him in hand.

"I won't."

He couldn't form the words to tell her he was seriously overheating, but she seemed a step ahead of him anyway. Cold water from her canteen dripped down his face, into the collar of his shirt, chilling further as she blew softly. Her hand never stopped.

"I can't— Y'can't keep that up, ahhI'm— I really can't deal with this."

He didn't quite have the strength to protest physically as his body was more concerned with  _not_  increasing its internal temperature. His coat and shirt were quickly opened to bare his torso to the air.

"Come on, stay with me."

She spoke softly and calmly as more water and breath drifted over him, bringing him back to safety.

The shadow of the overhang inched further over them as her left hand joined her breath in dancing over his chest.

"I know what I'm doing. Leave it to me. Just lay back."

He couldn't find it in him to protest any more, so he did as she asked, head falling back and hands twitching in the sand. (When had she taken his gloves off? A sudden breeze felt heavenly against his palms.)

He wouldn't do this again. It felt nice— too nice. He didn't like that he liked not having much choice in the matter. Just what was he discovering about himself today?

His lenses were entirely fogged up by the time his release hit, and his hands grasped uselessly at the grains beneath him before reaching up to grip her shoulders as she whispered encouragements in his ear. He didn't have the energy to arch, but if he did, he thinks he would have.

She gently cleaned him as he caught his breath.

She removed his hat and goggles to stroke his forehead.

"See? You're not dead. You handled it pretty well."

"Yer frickin' dangerous."

"You didn't say the word, so apparently I'm not  _too_  dangerous. I'm glad. You look real good like that."

He shook his head and rolled to his side. They could explore that further another day. With air conditioning.

* * *

15-1 - Relax

The artificial sun hangs low, casting the bedroom into a low light. His arms are at his sides and his head is turned on the pillow as she slowly works the ache out of his shoulders.

He's been hard for a while now and he knows she knows it. The actual massage is still appreciated, but it's definitely just teasing at this point.

His spine pops and he lets out a groan.

"Crispy."

"Comes with age."

After several minutes, she finally seems satisfied with her work.

Without any obligation to worry about awkward erections, he finds that despite still feeling it against his stomach, he's relaxed enough to fall asleep. He makes a mental note to return the favor tomorrow.

She lays against his back and slides up so she can rest her chin over his shoulder. Her hands slide under his hips just as easily. He doesn't move, but he hums in appreciation as she strokes and squeezes him just as slowly and firmly as she had his shoulders.

She does all the moving for him; sliding up and down his back, rocking both of their hips forward. The slick sound of oiled skin slipping and sliding together quickly gets to him and he comes with a low groan into the pillow.

The last thing he hears before slipping off to sleep is an immature giggle, "Happy ending~"

* * *

16-1 - Wet

_"You can sit this one out. It's just a bit of sample gathering anyway,"_  Sherri had told him roughly six hours prior to setting out into the volcanic caves of Amduscia.

She almost crawled back into the campship, panting as if she'd outrun an army. She stripped the armor— only the armor —off and stumbled into the bathroom without a word.

He followed to make sure she was okay and turned the corner right as she both hissed and moaned at the cold stream of water she was standing under.

He leaned against the door frame with an amused grin. "Y'alright?"

She answered with another appreciative noise and turned around and craned her neck so it could run down her scalp and back. She sounded like she might weep any moment. Satisfied that her flesh didn't need freezing to not melt off anymore, she sank down to rest on the floor.

While she continued to bask in the relief, he let his gaze wander to the thin white shirt clinging to her skin. She had dressed as lightly as she could; just enough to keep her armor from chafing or scalding her. The black athletic binding might not add to the image for some, but the context more than made up for it. Sweaty and fresh from work, ready to strip all of the day's burdens off...

She seemed to follow that train of thought to an extent as she wiggled out of her shorts, leaving her in just that shirt and underwear.

He took the few steps across the room to kneel in front of her. "Need help getting out of the rest?"

Aroused or not, it was an honest offer for assistance. He'd seen her struggle to remove the bras she wore for work when moisture was involved.

She nodded tiredly and scooted to turn her back to him before lifting her arms up. He gripped the shirt's hem and easily pulled it over her head and dropped it on top of her discarded shorts. He slipped his fingers under the band of her bra and just massaged at the sides for a few moments before moving to the front and tugging upward until it was over her breasts. She immediately sighed in relief and almost let her arms fall, but he quickly moved to the back to work it up and over her head until it joined the pile of clothes.

She dropped her arms to her sides and leaned back as he returned to massaging where the band had rested, paying special attention to the indents in her sides.

"Fuck.  _Thank you,_ " she all but moaned out.

"Hey, I get to be lazy, take half the credit,  _and_  cop a feel? S'no problem." He kneaded her chest as he chuckled, drinking in the relaxed sighs and mutual laughs she gave.

"Can do a proper wet shirt thing later when I'm not minutes from passing out."

"I'll hold you to that."

* * *

18-1 - Edge

It's one of the few things she can exercise patience in.

She sits behind him, pressed lightly against his back and hands idly rubbing his inner thighs as he huffs in irritation yet again. Not for the first time, his own hands reach for himself and she bats them away, whining a long "don't" as she nuzzles his back.

Of course, it works mostly on honor— his own willingness to let her tease him like this —but there's also something thrilling about knowing that, as a Hunter, she could easily restrain him if she needed to. The times he tries to go back on it make a nice substitute she can't feel guilty for.

She doesn't ask to do it as much as she thinks she'd like to, because of the aforementioned impatience and because just like him, she's a little lazy. Not to mention it's difficult to find a few hours to dedicate to it.

But it's so worth it.

Seeing his usually so calm and collected demeanor melt into lip biting and creased brows; feeling his complete control crumble into involuntary twitches and near thrashing; hearing his low voice change octaves through the panting, the huffing, the growling until he finally just begs for her to let him come.

Then he trembles until his body gives out on him, either all but passing out against the sheets or slumping against whatever's holding him up— in this case, it's her, and she finds she likes it best. His attempts to catch his breath are the only thing keeping him from being completely limp against her. She leans back so he slides down and she can see his face; mouth open with the heaving breaths (the first time she got it right, there was even a little bit of saliva trailing down his chin), eyes half-lidded and seeing absolutely nothing (hopefully stars), and cheeks flushed the most endearing shade of red.

He's a sight to behold, but she can't help but think it'd be better if he'd just let his damn hair down.

* * *

19-2 - Somnophilia  **[*3]**

He had fallen asleep near instantly that night. Sherri was not amused. He'd been making eyes at her the latter half of the day (she could read the exposed half of his face better than she could read most strangers' full faces at this point) and just left her hanging.

Her hand still rested right above the waist of his pants. She figured she wasn't getting to sleep any time soon, so...  _'Might as well.'_

Her touch traveled lower to rub him through the fabric, stroking slowly but firmly to not wake him. It took longer than usual to respond, but she helped to shift the hardened shape upward and between his waistband and shirt. He mumbled a soft groan and shifted his legs, but otherwise seemed undisturbed.

It was tempting to crawl under the sheets and just go to town until he woke up, but she wouldn't risk turning him onto his back. Besides, she wanted to leave him a mess to clean up 'as punishment.'

* * *

21-2 - Double (Or more) Penetration  **[*4]**

She had been hesitant to try anal for all of five seconds before proposing, 'I'll try it if you will.' He had shrugged, saying it was only fair.

Turned out neither disliked it.

Thus they came to own a small assortment of toys. She had mostly gotten them with intent to use them on him, not the other way around, but in her excitement, she'd gotten one just a touch too big for the intended use.

But that wasn't to say it didn't see any use.

Her one ground-rule after they'd explored was that she'd lead. As much as she trusted him, she felt more comfortable if she was in control of the speed and angle. Of course, he had no objections. She sat in his lap with her back to his chest, his left hand rubbing her thigh encouragingly as she rocked against him.

She hadn't seen it sitting to the side and she hadn't noticed him reaching over for it— he was just suddenly pressing the length of it against her, letting it slide along the slick folds as she moved.

She turned her head and shot him an amused look. He rose an eyebrow in question and she laughed as she faced forward again and slowed to a stop.

She helped guide it and gasped as he slowly slid it inside.

"Oh god."

"Stop?"

"No, not.. not yet..."

Once the tip was nestled firmly against her cervix, he pulled the toy out a couple inches and started a slow rhythm.

"Still oka—"

She bucked against him with a short cry.

He felt it.

"Whoa."

"H-hhaha, yeah,  _whoa_. Wow. Keep going."

She resumed the steady pace she had before, breaths heavier and punctuated with short, low groans. He tried to match her pace, but being able to feel the movement of the toy himself was a bit distracting.

* * *

23-1 - Slow (Either)

Chroto appreciated his partner's enthusiasm and forwardness. Had it been up to him to take charge, they likely wouldn't have all that much intimacy beyond holding each-other as they slept. He just couldn't be bothered to put forth the effort for much unless it needed to be done, or he  _really_  wanted it to be done.

It took getting used to and plenty of reassurances that yes, he was still interested, and no, he didn't dislike intimacy.

"It's like cake, y'know?" he tried to explain one day, "cake's great, and you could look at it or fantasize about it all day. But if you have to make the cake yourself, you're not going to be eating a lot of cake unless you  _really_  enjoy baking."

The exasperated look he was given in response had him laughing at himself and apologizing for the analogy.

But he found he got the point across just fine as they became increasingly bold in their advances.

But the pace was almost always too much to keep up with unless they were already on the same frenzied page. Whether it was because of impatience, wanting to see him exhausted, some kind of misunderstanding, or just personal preference, he never got around to asking. But if they weren't complaining, neither was he.

Most of the time, at least.

He cupped their face, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs as he redirected the feverish kiss to something more sensual.

He caught their wrists, placing their roaming hands at his chest as his own massaged the small of their back.

Before they could descend on him, he brought them back for a kiss as one hand caressed their cheek and the other ran over their hip.

He would take control back, grinding into them slowly with long, deep, quiet sighs. They would describe the look he gave them as reverent when he brought one of their hands up to kiss their palm.

They conceded easily to his silent requests for sensuality. They would ask afterward if they should always go slower, if perhaps they weren't romantic enough.

He would give them a silly, sated grin.

"It's all about the cake you're craving at the moment."

"Stop using cake analogies!"

He appreciated their enthusiasm and seeming inability to get enough of him, but he liked teaching them how to slow down and just enjoy each-other more.

* * *

23-2 - Shibari

"Y'sure you're readin' it right?"

She gives the rope a tug and frowns deeply at the diagram depicting the next knot she was to tie.

He gasps as an earlier knot manages to pinch his skin.

"Uh. Whoops, sorry," she apologizes half-heartedly, devoting most of her attention to glaring at her task.

"Not to be a critic, but I don't think there's supposed to be a loop hanging loose in the back—"

The papers are promptly shoved off the bed and the remaining rope is tangled haphazardly over wherever she can reach. It's a hideous mess and the only bit of it done properly is the first knot near his neck.

But it still does its job of restraining him.

He's pushed back and one knee comes free of the mess of rope while the other stays bound. She glowers down at him and he almost snorts.

"Close enough."

* * *

25-1 - Tired

It's been  _such_  a long day. If asked to vent, all she would reply with would be hands thrown skyward and the biggest huff her lungs could spit out.

The heavy, sluggish weight of Chroto's hand on the front door's controls tells her it hasn't been much better for him.

As soon as the door is securely shut and locked, she wiggles her hands underneath the armored part of his coat to get at his shoulderblades, squeezing and kneading. He sighs in appreciation and allows himself to be led to the bedroom.

( _'Worry about the sheets tomorrow.'_ )

They help each-other unclasp and remove the bits of armor and it falls to the floor piece by piece.

When she's got his outer coat undone and hanging off his shoulders, she grows impatient. The dazed look on his face combined with the still somewhat labored breathing is too much to pass up for long and she wants to vent the best way she knows how.

She gives him a soft shove toward the bed and he easily topples over onto his back. She's on his neck immediately, unzipping the last layer of leather between her and his skin and lavishing attention along his jaw, below his ear, down a vein...

Her hands work their way down over his chest and she nudges her knee upward against his crotch before she abruptly stops. He wasn't responding.

She leans back to find him clearly asleep.

Goddammit.

* * *

29-1 - Foot

His socked foot rests firmly against her crotch.

She raises an eyebrow as she slowly registers that the movement hadn't been a mistake. He feigns innocence before returning his eyes to his book with a hint of a coy smile.

His left leg is stretched all the way out and lays over her right. As he flexes his right foot against her mound, she lets her left leg slide off the couch to give him more room.

He moves his foot down, drawing his toes up and down her labia. It's nowhere near as dextrous as his hands, but there's a pleasant bluntness to it that has her twitching.

He moves back up to grind his heel along her clothed folds instead, stopping just below her clit to leave her glaring at him. With a (sarcastically) apologetic grin, he bends his arch to give just a bit of the stimulation he'd denied her.

When she bucks against him, he gives in. He presses the ball of his foot against her clit and roughly rubs his toes above it, moving in small circles as she rolls her hips to match each stroke.

It doesn't take long for the rough, broad pressure to bring her release. The slight arching of her back feels awkward in this position, but he works her through it until she's slumped back against the arm of the couch.

When she comes down, she must be giving him a confused look.

He laughs and turns the page of his book. "Wanted to see if it worked the other way around. Don't really hear much."

"Yeah, well. It does." She lets her head fall back and laughs along. "You... you are goddamn dangerous."

* * *

These are all the prompts I skipped and why.

1-2 - Spanking  
It was disappointing to skip the very first one, but I just can't see any of them being into it. Maybe a one-off ass slap in the barracks to decide nah, not for them.  
(Sherri may or may not fantasize about slapping Chroto's ass in public as a territorial thing, but she knows he'd hate it. Which is probably why she fantasizes about it.)

3-1 - Corset  
Well, Sherri isn't one for corsets, and while I have toyed with the idea of crossdressing for Aurum, I'm not really feelin' it. It's the type of thing he'd only do and get into if he was specifically asked to, and Chroto probably wouldn't even think to ask, so it's something that accidentally goes unexplored.

3-2 - Public  
Chroto doesn't do public. He won't even hold hands in public. The closest I can justify were covered in 6-1 (Hidden), 11-1 (Transportation), 14-1 (Outdoors), and 31-2 (Combo of Outdoors, Wet, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism), which were all either while on missions (unlikely to run into anyone) or in someone else's house. That said, any of those prompts probably could have filled in for "Public", but I chose to use them as I did.

5-2 - Humiliation  
This would overlap too much with 2-2 (Dirty Talk) and 5-1 (Sadism). All I can think of is just dirty talk meant to embarrass the receiver, and probably more crying, which I've already written so much of that it'd be redundant.

6-2 - Size Difference  
21-1 - Big (Size difference)  
22-1 - Little (Size difference)  
They're all relatively close in height. Sudden micro/macrophilia is fine in drawings, but it's kinda dumb in writing without a ton of setup. Only other option is aging one of them down and I won't do that.  
(Yes, I am aware that shrinking has been done in the PS series before. I lived (and died) the megid trap hallway of doom multiple times.)

8-1 - Rock Hard  
I couldn't think of anything that wasn't cringe-worthy or laughable. How do you make "rock hard" not sound stupid these days?  
I probably could have written something like 7-1 (Lust) but from Chroto's point of view, but it's difficult enough writing the rest of this stuff from his POV without feeling like I'm putting way too many words in his mouth and doing too much with a character that isn't mine.

10-2 - Edgeplay  
20-2 - Pet Play  
31-1 - Pet play  
I don't see them being into any form of roleplay...  
Or anything rough enough to count as edgeplay...  
Also I can hardly even put up with people who roleplay as animal people outside of their shitty public ERP sessions. What makes you think I can tolerate it in porn?

11-2 - Sadism/Masochism  
Already covered by 5-1 (Sadism)

12-2 - Master/Slave  
Another of those things I don't think any of them would be into. Chroto's too lazy to play the slave, and he'd probably ruin playing the master role by ordering the slave to do all the household chores.  
All three of them could definitely get into something similar, though. Something with less of a power dynamic where he just gently instructs them what to do. His voice is hypnotic.

15-2 - Sounding  
I admit I love the idea of this. Watching it is super fun, but I don't think I'd like to be on the receiving end. So, I haven't participated, nor have I read much about it from people who enjoy receiving it, so I was ill-equipped to write about it.  
There are plenty of things I'm ill-equipped to write about, but it's easy enough to smudge the details of those.  
I guess I could have written it from the giver's POV, who just has to take their word for it that it feels good? But I didn't. Oh well.

16-2 - Waxplay  
This would probably be one of those things that accidentally never gets explored. I'm also ill-equipped to write about it besides sticking my fingertips into candle wax as a kid.

17-1 - Battle  
I'm not sure I understood the prompt. Battle? They are soldiers, but unless it's a meaningless mission like gathering materials, they're not going to be in the sexual mindset on the battlefield. Did they expect something like "battling tongues"? Because that's been silly since it was first thought of.

17-2 - Blood/Gore  
Nope nope. When blood is shed, it's gone too far. They aren't that hardcore.

19-1 - Suspension  
idk man I don't see them having a sex swing or anything like that lol  
And if they got tangled in say, the vines of the Naberius forest, their partner would probably be too worried to start makin' with the sexy.  
Picking up? The one who'd have to do the picking up would be Chroto, and he's not gonna do that lol  
(It was implied some pegging goes on, and if Sherri were thirsty enough, she'd definitely hoist him up with dem Hunter muscles. But I'm not about to write about that (yet?).)

22-2 - Glory hole  
I couldn't see any of them doing anonymous hand/blowjobs, and just randomly having a wall between them and their partner would be pretty frickin' weird.

24-1 - Orgy  
Despite especially enjoying the threesome solution to love triangles, I can't bring myself to do it to these three. Sherri and Aurum just wouldn't be able to stand each-other, and neither like sharing. Sherri just wouldn't have it and would walk away. Aurum would probably go along with it 'cause he's a spineless turd and thinks "well as long as my partner is happy," and quickly sink into full blown depression.

25-2 - Boot worship  
I don't think any of them would be comfortable with that...  
Chroto would be thinking "what the hell am I doing with the gift of life so graciously given to me"  
Sherri would laugh in your face, "haha  _what_ "  
Aurum would again concede to anything until he got into it by osmosis

26-1 - Cage play  
Similar to Suspension, I don't see them owning something so big for these reasons.

26-2 - Shotgunning  
I am ill-equipped to write about this, and also I like to limit my characters to one vice unless they're a real fucking mess, and it's fallen on light drinking for them.

28-1 - Burn  
Similar to the Blood/Gore prompt.

28-2 - Xenophilia (Objects/Aliens etc)  
That's gwanada doujin territory lol It's like the micro/macro thing for me. It's fun in artwork, but requires way too many suspensions of disbelief, too much rule-bending to work in writing. I mean, why would a tentacle monster want to stick its tentacles in human sexual organs? Why would it have that instinct, when it's not meant to breed with them?  
So uh. The closest I could get is making particular mention of newman ears? And I already wrote that! Hahah...

29-2 - Watersports/Omorashi  
I have these blacklisted for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [*1] There's a bilingual joke to be had here, but I can't think of how to write it outside a shitty note. Chroto refers to himself as "oniichan" (big brother) at times. I didn't think of this until I was editing over a month after writing it.
> 
> [*2] I feel I should elaborate that they do have a safeword, which was alluded to at the end. And he didn't use it.
> 
> [*3] I feel like I wussed out on this one. I kind of want to revisit it one day.
> 
> [*4] I'm so sorry. It's not that I have no interest in writing it, I just can't think of how. Probably from a lack of example? It doesn't seem like a very common thing people write about, and like with all the skipped prompts, it doesn't feel right to write about something I don't have a whole lot of experience in, first, second or third hand, from both sides.


End file.
